Warcraft 1. Prologue: Synopsis

**Trial by Fire**

**Prologue: Synopsis**

_It was two days after both Simonee's meeting with the king and the funerals of Dince and Akall. The king had bade the group stay in Stormwind until after the planned Defias invasion, and so Simonee and his friends were able to rest and relax while simultaneously preparing. Simonee sat on the bed in the room he had occupied in the Keep, thinking over what had happened over the past three months of traveling. _

Firstly, he thought back to Goldshire and the Lion's pride, where he had held his guild's inauguration. He remembered the one-hundred faces looking up at him in silent admiration and respect while he spoke; the thunderous shout of "HAIL SLAYERS!" and watching as they filed out of the inn and went on to their own adventures.

Simonee fingered the King's Crest, the medal given him by Varian with the grand ruby set into the center. He thought back to when he told the group of his original quest – to report to Baros Alexston – and asked that they join him on it. They had eagerly accepted, but now, he wasn't sure of their enthusiasm. Aubs, Aeriah, Dince, Dagerly, Hoardale, and himself. It was a motley crew, but they had followed him in faith as he led them from Goldshire to Stormwind; and then Stormwind to Westfall. He had been sent by Alexston to report to the knight Gryan Stoutmantle – leader of the resident People's Militia – who, in turn, sent them to the Deadmines. The Militia had captured a defector of the Brotherhood, and Stoutmantle asked that Simonee and two of his friends follow him to the Defias' stronghold in Westfall. He had chosen Aeriah and Dagerly to go with him, while Hoardale, Aubs, and Dince stayed in the settlement of Sentinel Hill. When Simonee and his chosen two reached the town of Moonbrook, they had found the mage Krionoso, enlisting his help. The others – according to Aubs' recollections – fortified the town's defenses in anticipation of an attack by the Defias. They had used wood cultivated from the sparse trees in the region, plus some pilfered from the opposing shore of Duskwood.

In the Deadmines, Simonee was charged with killing the Defias' leader, Edwin Van Cleef – who had been previously anonymous. Quickly moving through the mineshafts, the three and Krionoso did just that, taking his head as proof, and an unsent missive. Upon returning to Sentinel Hill, Simonee found masses of bodies lying dead on the ground, signs of battle. There were scattered fights, mostly one-on-one or one-on-two, filling the settlement's street. Simonee remembered fighting alongside the People's Militia clearly, slinging fireballs at the Defias that had invaded. Eventually, the Brotherhood was pushed back, but not without loss. Hoardale had been stabbed by one of the bandits, who had taken advantage of the warlock's staff shattering in half. After that was hazy in Simonee's memory. Ask any one of the residents of Sentinel Hill, and they would say that he conjured a fireball that could've dwarfed a sun, and that fireball had simply atomized the assassin.

This use of power, unfortunately, caused Simonee to fall unconscious, and when he woke again, he remembered inducting Krionoso into the Slayers of Destiny and giving him his tabard – which now had been hanging, torn, from a nail in the wall. After the group held a funeral for Hoardale, returned to Stormwind. A new councilmember, Akall, was chosen, and the seven returned to Alexston with Van Cleef's head and missive. From there, the group had been sent to the cheesemaker Elling Trias – who apparently had a trouble-making past – who then sent them to the fisherman Jorgen – another of Alexston's old time friends. After that, the fisherman told them to travel to Duskwood, where another important note had been hidden. Unfortunately, the group was waylaid by a raid on the city. The Horde had attacked the city with trebuchets and mass numbers, but were overtaken when the dwarves of Ironforge came and reinforced the Stormwind protectors. Simonee was once again knocked unconscious by a boulder sent flying by one of the trebuchets' impacts against the wall.

During his deep, long sleep, the rest of the group had gone to Duskwood in his stead. They found the note, and when Simonee awoke, Krionoso was there – as well as the note. When Simonee and his friends attempted to return to Jorgen, they found him dead, under the span leading into the city. With the fisherman dead, Simonee and his group had no choice but to find a translator able to decipher the code of the note. The perfect place, Simonee had decided, was back in the Deadmines.

The perfect opportunity, however, was given them by a mysterious note, telling Simonee to wait in the mines alone. He did so, and was captured by the Defias and dragged to the boat in the back of the mines, in the grotto where he, Dagerly, Krionoso and Aeriah had originally killed Van Cleef. Soon, however, he was rescued by both Dagerly and Krionoso – both of whom had been stationed at the rear entrance of the mines in the Dagger Hills. Between the three of them, they captured Simonee's assailant and brought him back out of the mines. From there, the entire group escorted him to Stormwind and Alexston. Witnessed by all, the Defias then deciphered the note, revealing a well-hidden secret.

Simonee remembered his shock quite well, as the assassin revealed that the Brotherhood had captured the king of Stormwind, Varian Wrynn. Alexston, also shocked by the news, the charged Simonee, Aubs, Dince, Dagerly, Akall, Aeriah, and Krionoso to bring him back. That began a long quest across the Great Sea, in Kalimdor - at Baros' suggestion. The group crossed the dry desert plains of the Barrens and walked through the forests of Ashenvale and Darkshore. Eventually, they found themselves in the night elves' capitol city of Darnassus.

Once in Darnassus, the group reported to the priestess Tyrande Whisperwind. They told her of what had happened to the king, and she agreed to send out scouts in search of him. In the meantime, the group had split and entertained themselves. After a few days, the seven regrouped, and Krionoso and Aeriah had come back with a new guild member - Garret Frosthammer. They then decided to check up on the situation, and being in luck, Tyrande told them of Defias activity in Moonglade. Following the lead, the group found it to be an ambush set up by the Defias Brotherhood. After a short duel with his latest assailant, Simonee found it to be his friend and fellow mage, Krionoso.

_Simonee scoffed, looking at the battered remnants of the tabard hanging from the wall. Looking back through his memories once again, he continued running down the events that had led to this._

The group had returned to Lady Tyrande and from her, learned that her scouts had been killed and replaced by Defias assassins. However, she also told them that her scouts sent to the Eastern Kingdoms had come across a lead too prominent not to follow. So, at the suggestion of the Lady, they followed it, returning to Stormwind once again. The scouts then told them of the whereabouts of a small tent that had been pitched in Duskwood, and the group of seven made their way there. Once they reached the tent, Krionoso assaulted them, killing both Dince and Akall in a matter of moments before he could be subdued at Garret's hammerfall. The traitor mage then teleported away to lands unknown before Simonee could finish the job.

And after the two funerals, that's where things stood. Preparing for a full-scale Defias invasion. _'This is becoming ridiculous. And quickly,'_ Simonee thought, sitting on his bed. A knock on the door brought him back to reality.

* * *

A/N: Chalk this up as not being able to stay away for long. Heh. Anyway, next chapter will be not far away, and will be **_ACTION PACKED _**and full of **_INTRIGUE!_ **LOL! Well, besides that, I've got absolutely nothing to say, except - for the first time this story - BE HAPPY!


	2. Chapter 1: Invasion

**Trial by Fire**

**Chapter One: Invasion**

Simonee looked up at the door and sighed. "Yes?"

He heard a voice on the opposite side of the door speak, but it was too low for him to make out. Simonee stood and walked to the portal to open it, finding Varian's messenger behind it. She was almost five-feet-nine, standing to Simonee's neckline. She was garbed in fine silks, wearing a short-sleeved shirt despite it still being cold out. The messenger had ruby hair, accentuated by blonde streaks running through it at regular intervals. It was tied back in a ponytail which rested on her back. She also had curves to rival any night elf maiden.

"Er... what is your message, milady?" Simonee asked, brought out of his trance-like gawking by the nagging voice in the back of his mind. The woman blushed slightly as he addressed her.

"The king wishes to see you in the audience chamber. He says it requires your attention," she replied. Her voice was clear, and not without authority.

Simonee cleared his throat and nodded. "After you, milady," he said. She blushed again.

The messenger led him down the hallways - he had the passageways all memorized at this point, but the woman didn't know that - as they made their way down to the large, tapestry-filled room. Upon reaching it, she opened the door and gestured Simonee inside. The room was just as it was two days ago, as they had prepared for the funerals. Banners of the Alliance and panoramas littered the walls, and the benches surrounding the center floor were empty, rising from front to back.

The king was the only current occupant of the room, sitting in the red velvet throne. He looked tired, as he had been dealing with the senators and advisors for the whole time he had been back. Varian looked up at Simonee and the messenger, and smiled as sincerely as he could, considering the circumstances.

"You sent for me, sir?" Simonee asked, walking to the center floor and kneeling.

"Yes; my scouts are telling me that the Defias are now only days away. They are marching through the border into the forest as we speak. I need of you to prepare yourself. Being that you're one of the better mages currently in the city, I want to put you in the command of a division of spellcasters."

Simonee stood, shocked. "I am honored, my liege," he said.

Varian smiled. "It is my honor to bestow this upon you." He looked at the messenger and said, "Terri, if you would please show the master mage to the armory."

Terri bowed low. She led Simonee out of the audience chamber, and guided him through the hallways. Eventually, the two came to an open courtyard. The courtyard was beautiful; there was a path lined by trees that led into a large building, separated into three. There, the path branched off into three and each went into a spearate doorway. The sun was reflecting off of every blade of grass, and the verdant green seemed to simply pop from the large lawn. Rosebushes and and magnolia flower beds were tended to with a mastery, by small gnomes with strange machines. Simonee took a liking to the courtyard immediately; it was so much more... open than the confined hallways and the large-yet-crowded chambers that occupied the rest of the Keep's space.

The messenger led Simonee down the pathway and halted abruptly at the stem of the branches. She pointed to the building on the left. "That section is for cloth and leather. Enchantment scrolls can also be found there. The middle building," she said, pointing next to the corresponding section, "is mail and plate, plus bastard swords and maces. The building on the right is for staves, daggers, blades, and smaller trinkets. Peruse at your discretion. The king has made it so that everything is available to you."

Terri bowed low again, and scooted off back into the maze of the Keep's hallways, leaving Simonee gaping at the large building. After a few moments, Simonee gained the use of his legs again.

He entered the large storerooms using the entrance on the left - the cloth and leather section. There were racks on the walls holding clothing made from nearly every type of fabric; from linen to enchanted spellweave. It was much like the wardrobe the group had been allowed to use before the funerals, albeit much more formal and organized. On a row of tables to Simonee's right and against the wall, there were many different suits of leather armor; colors ranging from light brown to jet black. In the center of the room was another large cluster of tables, on top of which lied scrolls tied shut with wax seals. Simonee recognized these as single-use enchantments. Once the spellcaster casted the enchantment, the rolled parchment of the scroll would simply become spent and disappear, leaving the enchantment on whatever was to be imbued.

Simonee walked to the cloth racks. There were undershirts, pants, boots, cloaks, and robes, lined according to type and fabric. Looking through the items, Simonee was enthralled by some. He felt the dormant power bristling through his arms as he felt each. When he finished his inspections, he chose to simply keep his gift robes from Garret, instead using undershirts and pants from the armory; these were too good to pass up.

Simonee then looked at the assortment of scrolls lying on the tables in the center. There were labels underneath each that read what the enchantment scribed on the scrolls was, and what it did. He chose three - one which was able to amplify his flame magics through his robes; one that was able to erect a thin barrier against both spells and melee attacks that would help dampen the damage done; and one that he placed on his staff, which exuded icy wrath. Once he placed the frost enchantment on his staff, a thick white mist enveloped the tip.

Afte he chose his enchantments, he found no reason to look at the leathers, mail or plate, and so decided to move straight on to the weaponry room. There, weapon racks lined each of the room's four walls. On one, there were swords and daggers; on another, there were staves and smaller warhammers; on the third, there rested axes; on the fourth was rifles of differing sizes, with adjustable scopes nearby. Once again, there was a cluster of tables in the center of the room, upon which lied amulets and rings of many sorts.

Stepping into the room, Simonee immediately spotted a stave to his liking; it was on the far right edge of the weapon rack, and had a divider separating it from the others. It had a red gem for a tip, with smaller gem fragments rotating around the larger. The large gem was nearly the size of Simonee's forearm, and was twice as thick. The handle was made of the finest rosewood, and was protected merely by a thin layer of cloth.

Simonee was intrigued by the fine weapon. He walked quickly to where it was resting, and reached a hand out to grab it. He wasn't able to before a blast of arcane energy blasted him backward. A chuckle rang out behind Simonee, from the front entrance of the armory.

In the doorway, Simonee saw, was an old man - nearing seventy by the look of him. He had stark white hair, and a long beard to match. He held a cane in his right hand, leaning on it heavily for support. He took a few steps into the room before addressing Simonee.

"Ah, that's a feisty one, it is."

"Feisty?" Simonee asked, getting up.

"Aye, feisty. It's got quite a temper, doncha know."

"Temper?"

The old man looked at Simonee with a smile. "Inquisitive, aren't we? Yes, temper. It's said that that stave lives," he said, motioning at the staff. "They call him the 'Merciless Gladiator'. The legend goes that there was a grand battlemage who frequented the arena. He went undefeated until an underhanded blow forced him to his knees. Then, before his opponent got the chance to cleave his head off, he imbued his soul into his staff. The spell is one that would kill anyone - naturally. I s'pose the gladiator thought that a better fate than being stilled by a member of the Horde. It's taken up until recent lulls in the war to get the stave back diplomatically. Aye, that was a tough fight, even without the bloodshed."

Simonee nodded at the old man. He had finally reached the staff, and started to speak in an undertone. Simonee felt the drop in power, as the stave allowed the old man to reach for, and pick it up.

Shocked, Simonee asked, "How did you do that?"

The mysterious man chuckled again. "I am the caretaker of this marvellous weapon. I placed that ward around this and built the section for it. I couldn't risk any passing wanderers or pilferers gaining this prized possession. What's your name, young mage?"

"Simonee..." he said, tentatively.

"Ah, Simonee. A good name. Well, Simonee, I'm Gemmund. I have heard accounts of the king that speak of your virtue, and a reading of your mind confirms it. I can allow you this weapon. But promise me this one thing: bring it back to me without scuff or scratch, for it is too valuable to be swinging around recklessly."

Simonee loooked at Gemmund once more in shock. "Are you sure?"

"Aye, that I am."

Gemmund handed the stave to Simonee, who hefted it in his hands. It was surprisingly light, and - to Simonee's delighted surprise - not top-heavy. He looked back up at the older mage.

"I thank you Gemmund, and I do promise to return this to you, without fail."

Gemmund nodded and smiled, revealing two rows of perfectly white teeth. "I know you will, sonny. I know you will."

With that, the old man turned and exited through the door in which he had came in, and left Simonee looking once more at the exquisite staff. With a short toss, he threw his own staff into the corner of the room and strapped the Merciless Gladiator into the scabbard on his back.

Armed with stave and armor, Simonee returned to the audience chamber; not without getting lost a few times before a chambermaid gave him the directions. In the large room, Simonee bowed to Varian.

"I see Gemmund has allowed you use of his pride and joy. A finer weapon you won't see," he remarked. "And you're just in time, my friend. The Defias are moving at a faster pace than originally expected. They have already taken Goldshire, and are still marching here. I need you to go to the Trade District. There, you will find your soldiers, willing and ready."

Simonee bowed again, and said, "Aye, my liege."

* * *

The Trade District was as full as always, but not with the usual traders. Rows of soldiers lined the limited space, and the surplus spilled into the canals and Mage District. Simonee looked at nearly two-hundred mages and warlocks facing him. This was what he was charged with. Varian had treated him with the same respect as a general in his army - and as such, he was made an interim one.

His division fidgeted with fright, but at the same time - Simonee knew - they were tense and ready to down even the toughest of lizards in Un'Goro. Each was rather young, but there were a few that had lived their share of years, and these elder men were dispersed evenly, to keep up the younger ones' morale. Simonee stood at the front of the large column, pacing back and forth, trying to come up with a speech that would bolster the men's hearts. So far, he hadn't come up with anything. In his pacing, he had seen a glimpse of Aubs and Garret, but they were soon whisked away to do whatever the king may have had them doing. He wondered what the rest of his friends were up to, but pushed the thought to the back of his mind - he had more important things to worry about.

Soon, he heard the peals of war horns rising above the walls of the Trade District. The clashing of blades wasn't far behind. The canals were filled with the sounds of warfare as the Defias invasion force pushed their way into the frontlines of the Stormwind defenders. The dwarves from Ironforge were also fighting alongside their human counterparts, and both races were represented nearly equally. The metal ring of blade-on-blade went on for a few hours before a voice called out.

"SPELLCASTERS, TO THE MIDDLE!"

It was a flurry of activity, but Simonee had managed to run with his men to the center of the Trade District. Warriors and paladins passed by them whispering words of encouragement. Once the column of mages and warlocks reached the battle, they immediately began assaulting the Defias' frontlines. Simonee didn't pay much attention to the mass of bodies - both defender and Defias alike - instead opting for lobbing fireballs into the crowd of incoming invaders.

Only a few of the Defias had actually reached striking distance of the spellcasters' ranks, and when they did, they were dispatched quickly in flame or shadow.

The battle raged on for nearly an hour before the action nearly halted; Simonee had to draw the potent power of the Merciless Gladiator more than once in his casting frenzy. It didn't matter to him how much energy he used, as long as Stormwind would be safe from the Defias. Soon, a break in the Defias' lines appeared, and Simonee rushed forward in order to take advantage of it. He stepped out in front of the line of warriors and began casting his most powerful area spells. Columns of flame rose far above Stormwind's stone walls, and however many Defias still remained in the ranks turned back. Few skirmishes remained, and Simonee saw each of his friends handling their own load of the invaders.

After checking his group, Simonee called his division to him. Most of them were still there - some had been killed by arrows and throwing knives - and formed their lines. Simonee marched them forward, after a short rally.

"We're going to retake Goldshire! Prepare yourselves!"

Warriors and paladins heard the cry, and joined together under Simonee, and together, the spellcasters and the close-range fighters marched out of the city. A few Defias were stationed on the road to protect their retreat, but they were easily taken care of, and Simonee and his battalion kept on.

Soon, they reached Goldshire, and what Simonee saw broke his heart.

* * *

A/N: Yay, chapter one! It always feels good to start a new story, but I'm not so sure about this one. I'm not saying that I don't like it, I'm just saying that I kinda opened it in a sorta dramatic way. Oh well. Chapter two coming in a week!


	3. Chapter 2: Exile

A/N: I honestly suggest reading _Homecoming_ before reading this chapter, so that you can be in-the-know about what happened before. Other than that, just enjoy! Warning! Fluff alert! Not too much action here.

Review Replies!

Hint: Thank you for your review. I was definitely trying to enthrall you.

Matt: Thanks for your vote of confidence. I only hope that I can make it through to the end in the same fashion... :P

Whim: You don't have to worry about your grammar. I put that in my profile for aspiring writers. If you can't use grammar or spell correctly, why would you even think about writing a story?

Scion: I don't plan on keeping Simonee's little 'army'. They were pretty much just there for that chapter and his next. After that, I hope to get the other four back in. I kinda felt bad when I barely mentioned them in the first chap. I've always wanted a Merciless Gladiator staff. In my own little fantasy world, I have one now! Lol. Thanks for the review.

**Trial by Fire**

**Chapter Two: Exile**

Krionoso wandered the countryside skirting the Alterac Mountains, beginning his walk away from his home of Dalaran. It hadn't been nearly long enough rest, but he figured it was best to get out of the old healer's house before she changed her mind about killing him.

The sun was perched high above him, beating down with lukewarm rays. There were a few clouds barely visible in the horizon. _'Probable chances of rain tonight,'_ Krionoso thought, sighing. He was headed for Southshore - at least a half-day's walk ahead of him to the southeast. The people there didn't know his allegiance, and even if they did, the Syndicate was probably more of a worry to them than a single mage of the Defias alone.

A cool breeze rushed through some of the valleys created in the mountains, and Krionoso had to pull his robes in tighter in order to escape the blasts of air. He turned south slightly after the mountains began wrapping into themselves. An outpost could be seen in the dip, and soldiers passed by each other without glancing or saying a word at each other. A high fence made from wood divided the battleground of the Alterac valleys and the outside world, and a small hut was posted on either side of a gate which opened and closed to allow combatants either in or out. The huts contained merchants and a few sentries, and countless items were on display inside.

Southshore was visible in the distance, more like a shimmering outline of the settlement than anything else. Krionoso could also just make out the white sails of a ship leaving the harbor, setting off for Menethil harbor in the Wetlands.

Over the course of the day, Krionoso had made much progress, but couldn't quite escape the rain, as the clouds encroached upon each other and began pouring their payload over the landscape and the sun began setting behind the higher peaks of the mountains. He was close to Southshore, and so kept walking through the massive droplets of water. When he finally reached the town, he and his robes were soaked and dripping the excess.

Everyone in the town had gone inside - be it into their homes, or into the inn and tavern - to keep dry, and so all of the street torches had been allowed to be doused by the falling rain. This left Krionoso walking in the twilight that had somehow escaped the dense black clouds. He immediately turned to the inn.

The pain in his chest had subsided greatly since his healing, but the area still tingled with the feeling of the new bone structure. His sternum tingled the worst - having been dislocated completely from Garret's hammer's strike. The healer had said that he needed to give the bones time to set up and relax, and he intended to do just that.

The inn was boisterously loud, filled with the voices of at least fifty patrons, laughing, singing, and dancing to tavern melodies played by a small band of three with wind pipes and cellos. A few of the crowd looked Krionoso's way as he stepped inside, but none truly seemed to mind him. He fought through the jubilant many, and eventually made his way to the bar.

The bartender stepped out of a side-room laughing loudly, and walked the length of the bar to take Krionoso's order.

"So, what'll it be, sir?" he asked in a booming voice. The sound paled in comparison to the rest of the tavern floor. The man had tousled brown hair, cropped short and styled with short spikes. He wore a brown linen shirt with matching pants, both hanging quite loose from the athletic frame of his body. He leaned on the counter with fairly muscular arms, only raising himself up to fetch a glass of ale for one of the patrons.

When he returned, Krionoso said, "Just some water and whatever soup's on the special today."

The bartender looked him up and down, and nodded. "Aye, water and soup it is. Coming right up!" he said, walking brusquely back to the side-room.

Krionoso turned, putting his back onto the counter, and looked over the crowd. The tavern was packed tight, nearly to the point of bursting. Tables and chairs had been cleared from the center of the room, pushed off to the sides of the great room. The patrons had nearly began dancing in-step, but the routine was balked by some of the dancers losing pace and falling down, drunk. It happened quite often, and when it did, it was always good for many laughs. Eventually, the group simply started to do their own thing. Some continued to try and do the routine, while others danced to nothing in particular. The music was playing non-stop, but it didn't seem to bother the musicians.

Soon, the bartender returned to Krionoso with a bowl of deep red soup - spoon included - and a glass of water.

"Minestrone for the special, plus water. That comes out to fifty-two copper."

Krionoso handed him the money and set to eating. The minestrone was delightfully savory, and seemed to hit the spot against the miserable weather outside. He took a few swigs of the water after every couple of bites of the minestrone, afterward setting the glass onto the bar and returning to his spoon. And so he sat, listening to the tunes of the wind pipes and the stomping of the crowd attempting to dance.

A while after he had finished his soup, the tavern patrons simply decided to call it a night, and filed out of the building. Some called a half-coherent salutation to the bartender before leaving, and when all were outside, only Krionoso and a few others remained.

The bartender was busy washing up the dishes from the party, gently wiping the sides of a glass with a rag full of soap, while Krionoso asked, "Are there rooms open?"

The large man looked up and replied, "Aye," smiling. Looking to the side-room once more, he called out. "Eileen! A customer wants a room!"

Within seconds, a tiny lady appeared through the doorway and halted when she had reached the section of bar where Krionoso sat.

"So, what suits ye?" she asked, in an oddly thick brogue.

"Erm... a regular room, I suppose," Krionoso replied, caught off guard by the bluntness of the woman.

She nodded and said, "Aye, a reg'lar room for ye. Gimme a sec, I'll get de key."

The innkeeper walked quickly out of the room and returned likewise as fast. Krionoso spotted the bright glint of a key in her hand. "Follow me," she said, walking out from behind the bar and turning to start up the stairs. Krionoso did so, and they both arrived in a matter of seconds at a door.

Using the key, the innkeeper unlocked the door - a large _clank_ confirmed this - and opened it. The door opened silently, on well-oiled hinges. The interior of the room was the best that Krionoso had ever seen. Large mahogany drapes covered the sole window, while a matching rug could be found on the floor. The bed was well made, and was covered with bundles upon bundles of golden-dyed sheets. A clothing tree was set on the wall to the right of the entranceway, empty and waiting to be used. Overall, Krionoso was impressed.

"Oy, be sure to take off that soakin' robe before ye git into that bed. Ye don't know how much those linens cost."

With that, the odd woman walked away, presumably back to the bar. Krionoso was definitely confused by her.


	4. Chapter 3: The Fall of Goldshire

Review Replies!

Scion: I don't know what I wrote to make you think that, but I'm sorry to say that no, Krio has no interest in the innkeeper. Thanks for the review anyway.

**Trial by Fire**

**Chapter Three: The Fall of Goldshire**

There stood at least a hundred Defias soldiers where Goldshire had once been proud and tall. The Lion's Pride was nothing more than a smoldering pile of ashes on the ground. The forge had simply disappeared, without a trace. No wood, no ash, and no metal remained to tell the tale of what had happened to the metalworkers or their shop. Even the merchants had been scared from the road, where they had hawked their wares to the townsmen and travelers daily. The stalls they had occupied were battered, the broken wood piled on the side of the cobblestone road without care.

Quite simply, the town was no more.

Simonee was outraged. In front of him stood the desecrators of the place he had once in his lifetime called 'home'. The crime was unbearable to think of. With a hoarse yell, he charged at the waiting army. He didn't care or notice whether his division of soldiers had followed him into the rush of battle.

The front line of Defias held spears, now poised to impale Simonee as he rushed headlong into the crowd. They hid behind shields, kneeling with their harpoons raised over their shoulder. Seeing the phalanx, Simonee briefly halted and called a pillar of flame to dispatch the soldiers in a brief burst of light. He held his position as he began hailing fireballs towards the army, not quite caring about who he had hit with them. He barely noticed as his small army began engaging the treacherous bandits. The din of swords clashing once more rang out through the forests of Elwynn. The trees were the only ones bearing witness as the soldiers from Stormwind began to wipe out the outlaws.

Simonee was too busy fighting one of the better Defias warriors to pay too much attention. As the man swung his blade, hacking downward, upward, and side-to-side in his attempt to disembowel Simonee, the mage was one step ahead, in tune with his balance and motion in his rage. After a rather vicious slash, Simonee found a small opening; the warrior had failed to protect the side that he held his sword on, leaving a space barely large enough for Simonee to be able to cast a spell that wouldn't be balked by the man's skilled blade-handling. Using his window of opportunity, he blasted the Defias' side with a cone of frosty wind. The blademaster backed off momentarily, placing his hand on the spell-affected area in order to warm it slightly before continuing on. He didn't get much of a chance to before Simonee began casting more spells at him. Now that the momentum was his, the mage casted fireball after fireball in the hopes of downing the Defias. It didn't take long before the man buckled under the constant barrage.

After the bandit finally fell, Simonee turned his attention to the rest of the battlefield. A large mass of the Defias still existed, fighting ferociously against his own group of soldiers and spellcasters. He kicked the blademaster one final time before moving on to begin helping. He was surprised to find his group amongst the many that were under him, battling in their own skirmishes. _'I should have known,'_ he thought, smiling.

"Force them back! Make them run back to Westfall!" he shouted, rallying his men. They heard his cry and shouted affirmation in unison.

Simonee began to take the Merciless Gladiator from the scabbard at his back before remembering what Gemmund had told him.

_"I can allow you this weapon. But promise me this one thing: bring it back to me without scuff or scratch, for it is too valuable to be swinging around recklessly."_

Thinking better of his decision, Simonee found a blade resting on the ground, and picked it up. He weighed it in his hand, finding it to be rather well-balanced. The sword was a run-of-the-mill weapon, standard issue in the Defias Brotherhood. It was rather stocky, with a thin, wide blade and a small hilt with a leather-wrapped handle. The pommel was hardly existant, being a simple stone attached to the end of the handle.

Raising the blade in readiness, Simonee rushed into the fighting, swinging the sword wildly in hopes of slicing _something_ open. He succeeded in hacking apart a few Defias, but soon found himself in a stalemate with a likewise-blade-wielding bandit. Simonee thought himself no blademaster, but at least proficient had he needed to enter a fight with one. His skills were put to the test against the man, as he parried and countered attacks, hardly able to score even a scratch. The fight lasted minutes on end, with neither side able to gain ground over the other. Eventually, Simonee and the man both became exhausted, and the strikes and parries each put forth were weak and half-hearted. In an attempt to end the fight, Simonee drew a small amount of arcane energy from the Merciless Gladiator and cast a trap of frost on the ground. Ice encapsulated the Defias' feet, and he flailed about, trying to break the shackles.

The ice held fast, and Simonee approached the spasming Defias. The man's reckless flailing didn't go without effect; as Simonee came near, the bandit's blade carved a slice through Simonee's new robes, cutting just deep enough to create a shallow cut. Simonee sneered at the cut, but continued undeterred around the trapped man. Once in striking distance, Simonee stabbed his blade into the Defias' chest. It took another few seconds before the soldier's arms became stilled at his side. His sword clattered to the ground, and when the icy trap shattered, he did the same.

The fighting around Simonee had slowed down considerably as the army of Defias were taken down systematically. Eventually, the remaining few of the Brotherhood's army simply turned and retreated. The victory tasted nothing like sweetness, as Simonee looked around at his surroundings. Goldshire was still in ruins.

He sighed before saying, "Come men, let's go back. I'm sure someone will be waiting for us."

A/N: Ugh. I'm not liking the way I've been writing between this chapter and last. Then again, I haven't been writing things out longhand. Oh well. I'm sorry about this, and I hope to get back to former glory again. Please, read, review, do as you will. Chapter four out either Thursday or Monday.


	5. Chapter 4: The Beginning of the End

****

Trial by Fire

**Chapter Four: The Beginning of the End **

The masses had filled the streets since Simonee and his men left, going after the Defias. Since Simonee found Goldshire in ruins. Cheers erupted from every nook and crevice in the old stonework city as they walked through, like a parade, splitting the crowd into two masses. The light mood of the crowd completely overshadowed the sadness of the loss of Goldshire. At least they didn't have to know. As they marched, the warriors in the massive group had left to their own business, leaving only the spellcasters to follow their General.

Simonee walked in front of the soldiers that had been placed in his command, leading them to the Keep. He definitely didn't look forward to telling the king. His guildmates had reunited with him since they left the town, marching in the first row behind him. Superficial smiles were plastered to their faces as they walked the street, and through the arched pathway into the canals. Smiles that betrayed true feelings. Soon, the 'parade' had reached the main entrance of the Keep. There, the cheering crowd of citizens returned to their prior business, leaving Simonee and his men to meet with the king.

The familiar sconces lined the pathway leading into the great circular entrance chamber, lit with flickering orange flames. The room itself was empty, save for servants running between hallways in attempt to complete what task held their attention. Simonee turned to the division of spellcasters behind him.

"Men, I thank you for your service, but here I bid you leave. You have performed well, and for this I applaud you. May the Light be with you all," he called, looking over the masses before him. With concerned looks, they hesitated a moment before finally acknowledging the order.

As the men turned to leave, Simonee could hear the amplified uproar of the hundreds' clothing shuffling. Footsteps filed out of the hallway and out of the Keep, leaving only Simonee, Dagerly, Aubs, Aeriah, and Garret. Simonee smiled tiredly, appreciative of his group's support.

"You guys ready to do this?" he asked.

The four nodded their heads, and Simonee turned, beginning to walk down one of the many branching hallways. They followed nearly on his heels. After taking several corners and stepping through hundreds of meters of corridor, they had reached the audience chamber. The king sat solemnly on the throne, resting his chin on his palm. The room was decorated still exactly as it had been, but the torches had been doused long ago. The room was depressingly dark without them.

"My liege," Simonee said, walking into the room.

"Ah, Simonee. I had heard news that you had followed the Defias out of the city. How fares the situation?" Varian asked. His once-oiled hair was in ruins; perhaps from repeated runnings-through with his fingers, Simonee decided.

"It..." the mage began. His voice caught momentarily as he prepared quickly what he would say. "Sir, Goldshire... it's..." he sighed. "Gone. The Defias razed it to the ground as they passed through. I suspect no survivors. The purpetrators who did it have been dispatched."

"What?" Varian asked, quietly. "How can this be? How... could _those damn fools_ do this?"

Varian sighed and bowed over, pressing the heel of his palm into his forehead. From what Simonee saw, the news had hit him especially hard. He could see the faint trail of gleaming tears rolling down the king's face. The mage felt like doing the same, but duty prevented him. He couldn't crack up in front of his king. Not now.

"_...He_ may not have had anything to do with it. I don't believe that he is capable of such an atrocity," Simonee explained, placing his hands behind his back and locking them together.

The king sighed again and looked up. "Nonetheless, he must pay for it. He was one of the original tacticians; he could've prevented it if he had wanted to. If he had the _foresight_. You must leave in the morning. Find Krionoso and kill him. He does not deserve the _privelege_ of being held in the Stockades."

"Yes sir," Simonee said.

With a wave of his hand, Varian dismissed the group of five. They left him behind to grieve in the darkened audience chamber.

In the hallway, Simonee turned to his group, and said, "I need to go return something. Do as you will."

He turned down the pathway and followed it all the way to the armory. The courtyard calmed him just as it had the first time he saw it. The effect helped immensely. Entering the building straight through the door to the weapon racks, Simonee found the old man Gemmund sitting in a stool with his back to him.

"I see you've returned," Gemmund said, without looking in Simonee's direction.

"You see, eh? It seems as though you're looking the other way to me," Simonee remarked, smiling.

Gemmund laughed a few seconds before saying, "Ah, yes, but you're here nonetheless. Have you brought back the Merciless Gladiator?"

Simonee took the ornate stave from the scabbard at his back and held it for a moment before replying. "Yes, I've got it right here."

At that, Gemmund finally turned to face Simonee. His eyes locked onto the staff quickly before looking into Simonee's. "Good, good. Your own staff is on the table there," he said, pointing to the cluster of tables in the center of the room. "I think you'll find my additions rather... appealing."

Simonee looked quizzically at the man before stepping further into the room and to the tables where the staff was lying. He reached out to it, and felt the power simply gushing from it. "Why?"

"Because you brought me back the treasure. Most people would've simply took it and ran without a glance backward. You, however, are truly honorable. That's what I saw in you the first time we met. So I took the liberty of enhancing your weapon. Don't worry, it's nothing drastic, but it is definitely helpful."

"What did you do?"

"You'll find out when the time comes," Gemmund chuckled.

* * *

Krionoso woke with a sharp pain in his chest. He gasped at the pain, and clenched his fist tightly to the afflicted area.

_"I told you to rest the structure. Now see what you have done?" _he heard the old priestess' voice echoing through his head.

"I didn't want to infringe on your hospitality. I may be a traitor, but that doesn't mean I don't have any shred of decency," Krionoso replied through clenched teeth.

He heard a sigh before the priestess said, _"Just keep lying down. The pain will eventually recede. DO NOT walk for any significant amount of time, or else the damage to your ribcage will be truly irreversable. I may not like you, but that doesn't mean I'll allow you to suffer from your own stupidity."_

With that, the voice left his head, and he was once again alone. The pain remained, but it soon began to disappear, leaving Krionoso panting. He hadn't noticed it, but he had sat up during the attack, and so eased himself back down into the plushy bed. A dull tingling returned to his chest, and he slowly began to regain control of his breathing. Krionoso didn't like to be stuck in bed. He would rather be out, at least _trying_ to actively avoid Simonee and his goons. Remorse had hit him hard after having to kill Dince, and he wasn't even sure about what had happened to Akall. Whatever it was, it definitely wasn't any better than what he himself had suffered. Krionoso attempted to put the thoughts out of his mind. It wasn't easy due to not being able to do much else except think. He thought of what the healer said. _'...for any significant amount of time.'_

Krionoso realized that he didn't need to be completely bedridden. _'As long as I don't walk long, I should be fine,' _he thought.

Very slowly, he began to pull himself up from the bed, using only his arms. When he was finally able to sit upright, he slid his legs across the bed and over the side. With one final push, he was able to stand from the bed. He gingerly stepped to the clothesrack and took his blue robe from one of the massive hooks.

Krionoso left the room and began walking faster down the stairs and into the dining room and bar area. Behind the bar stood the muscular man from the night prior, wiping down the finish of the long wooden countertop with a damp rag. The man looked up only briefly from his duty before returning his attention to the task.

"What'll it be this fine morning?" he asked, still running the rag over the wood.

Krionoso thought a moment before answering. "Eggs, please. And a little bit of water on the side."

"Comin' right up," the man replied.

He set the rag on the counter and turned into the kitchen behind him. From the doorway, he called in the order, before returning to the rag. There didn't seem to be a dirty spot at that particular place, but the bartender simply kept wiping in circles.

Seeing Krionoso watching him, the man said, "It keeps the time passing. It gets a bit boring when you're a bartender in a working town. All the business comes after dark, as you saw last night."

Krionoso nodded and sat down on the nearest stool. The hard wood wasn't nearly as comfortable as the bed had been, but Krionoso was willing to sacrifice comfort for sustenance. The sound of frying was soon heard, and not long after, the bartender had been called back to serve the order.

"Here ye go. Eggs, and..." he began, reaching across the counter for a glass. Walking to a small tap, the man began filling the cup with water. "Here's yer water. Enjoy," he finished, handing over a fork for the eggs.

The meal was devoured rather quickly, and the plate was cleared of food. The bartender looked with brows raised at Krionoso, deciding it was much better to simply keep quiet.

* * *

The night gave Simonee almost no sleep. He tossed and turned, but the blissful black of his dreams couldn't find him, or rather, he couldn't find them. So he lied awake through the hours, merely thinking over what was ahead of him. He had already determined that it was nothing good.

Hours passed, and the sun finally rose above the city streets to shine its brilliant light upon the world. Simonee's room, high up in the Keep, was already quite bright, prior to the sun's unveiling over the rest of Stormwind. The mage rose quickly from the bed, and exited the room, yearning to take a walk. He strapped his newly-powered staff to his back before leaving the room.

The streets were quiet and empty - the only traffic being loose parchment flying across the road. Simonee's muffled footsteps reverberated in the absence, keeping him company during his personal reflection. Within moments, however, people began flocking into the street, one-by-one, until it was full to capacity. The morning crowd wound their way to their work and hobbies, while mothers took their children to the schoolyard by their hands.

It was a peaceful sight to Simonee, viewing all of the 'normal people' go about their own business, without the worries of the outside world. It definitely put everything into perspective for him. Eventually, his walk brought him full circle, standing at the entrance to the Keep. Deciding that there was nothing better to do, Simonee returned to the dormitories and woke his group.

When they were all standing before him, he said, "Today we start our search for Krionoso. I'm not thinking it's going to be easy. If you want to go your separate ways, that's quite acceptable - I can deal with him myself if need be."

Aubs shuffled slightly, looking down at the stone floor. "I... uh... I don't think I want to come. It might seem crazy, but I want to settle down... have a life, with a good husband," she said, almost too low for Simonee to hear.

"I understand," was all he said in reply, in just as soft a voice.

The rest of the group was silent. Aubs stepped forward a step and embraced Simonee.

"Thank you," she said, whispering.

Simonee returned the embrace, and soon after, Aubs released him and hugged the rest of the group in turn, giving each one words of luck and appreciation. When all was said and done, Aubs had brushed past Simonee and walked down the corridor, to whatever her life had in store for her.

Still standing there, Simonee, Aeriah, Dagerly, and Garret kept the silence for a few moments before Simonee said, "Now that that's done, we can move on to business. We need clues. Any ideas as to where you guys think he is?"

"What about Dalaran? He told you that he had lived there for some time, right? Why wouldn't he have reason to return?" Dagerly asked.

Simonee smiled. "You're right. That's where we're starting then, unless anyone else has an opinion?" When nobody spoke up, Simonee said, "Okay then. Dalaran it is. We'll start when everyone's packed and ready.

With that, the four of them returned to their respective rooms to begin repacking their belongings. It didn't take long before all were back in the hallway. With packs shouldered, they began to walk down the corridor and to the Keep's entrance. There was Varian, standing with his hands clasped behind his back.

"I would like to wish you all good luck. Please, all of you, come back safely. This city - this world - needs heroes."

Simonee nodded, and the king stepped aside. As the group walked past him, he shook each member's hand. Simonee couldn't help feeling an awful foreboding as he stepped from the massive stone structure and into the city.

Like he wouldn't return.

* * *

A/N: That's chapter four! AND I AM BACK! I loved how this chapter turned out! I'm also sorry to say that this will probably replace Monday's update. Hope you all don't mind much... Thanks for reading!


	6. Chapter 5: Syndication

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Trial by Fire

**Chapter Five: Syndication**

The air thrashed against Simonee as the great gryphon below him beat its tireless wings. Bright white clouds littered the horizon, playfully swirling around each other in the distant heavens. Underneath the flying beast and its rider, the verdant green grass of the plains of Arathi was just becoming visible after the season-long encasement in snow. Trees struck upward, as if trying to reach out to Simonee as he passed over them. This was the definition of peace.

Behind Simonee was the rest of his group, similarly saddled to the magnificent gryphons of Stormwind. Garret was lying back in the saddle of his with eyes closed, trying to catch whatever sleep he may. The other two weren't quite so relaxed. Aeriah held onto the gryphon's reins for dear life, while Dagerly's complexion was stark white, with a look of terror plastered onto his face. Simonee somehow fought back the urge to laugh.

As the day progressed, the sun began rising higher and higher, while the group flew underneath its watchful presence. Not long into the afternoon, the gryphons had started to make their descent. The bright green grass of Arathi gave way to the darker-hued tones of the Hillsbrad Foothills. More trees were present, shading the landscape from the bright rays of the sun. Southshore could be seen after a few more minutes, just across the shore of a small cove carved into the rocky beach.

A single wooden dock extended from the city, but the mooring was empty. Townspeople walked from building to building, keeping to themselves as they walked across the dirt path that served as the town road. Simonee's, Aeriah's, Dagerly's, and Garret's gryphons swooped overhead, and landed gracefully near the gryphon master at the edge of the small settlement. A small tented shade was set up behind the woman, while beside her on either side rested two crates - atop of which lay two large gryphons. Dismounting from his beast, Simonee led it by the reins to the master.

"Good afternoon to ye," she called as she walked forward to take the leather straps.

"Good afternoon," Simonee replied. He handed her the reins and she walked off behind the shade. She reappeared and did likewise for the rest of the gryphons.

When she finished, she strolled up and asked, "So... what business have ye in Southshore?"

"Actually, we're on our way to Dalaran," Simonee said, gesturing to the northwest.

The gryphon master looked over her left shoulder briefly, casting a glance in the direction of the mage's gesture. "Why Dalaran? T'aint nothin' there 'cept a bubble. Hasn't been since... well, ye know."

"Yes, I know. But, there is a history there that I must pursue," Simonee lied. "Dalaran is legendary, and I wish to find out why."

The woman eyed him before saying, "Alright, but don't say I never told ye there wasn't nothin'."

At that, she returned to her shade and sat on a stool, waiting for the next gryphons to come in. Simonee nodded to his group and they set off towards Dalaran, all the while watched by the gryphon master.

The air was cool, but not cold, as the four walked. Birds chirped, perching high in the trees and playing flittingly with one another. Wild panthers could be seen prowling in a clearing; they obviously weren't worried about any human presence. The mountains of Alterac bordered the plainsland on the right, while a thick forest did so on the left. It wasn't long before a shimmering outline of purple arcana could be seen in the distant horizon. As the group drew closer, they saw that it was backed by a large lake - when Simonee checked his map, he confirmed it to be the Lordamere Lake - and shared a border with the infamous Lordamere internment camp, where Thrall - the current Warchief of the Horde - had once been held before he escaped.

The sun had just begun to set when they were within a stone's throw of the city. They could see the tall purple barrier of the city as it sprawled above them, even still dwarfed by the mountain range. The _whoosh_ of cresting waves could be heard as the wind took the the waters of Lordamere against the rocky shore. The clouds of white that had been visible in the morning had turned black and encroached around the sun in the evening, threatening a downpour of rain.

At the edge of the shield, Simonee halted and reached out a tentative hand.

Nothing held him back.

Surprised, Simonee stepped into the shimmering purple shield, only to be met with a view of the city. It looked nothing as he remembered it from thirty years prior. Dilapidated buildings lined the street, while the street itself - which had been made from cobblestone - was crumbling and weak. A headless statue stood where, Simonee remembered, a once-ivory depiction of a battlemage had been. The town square was in just as bad a shape. The wooden fence that surrounded it was rotted and hollowed. The stones that made up the mayor's standout were crumbling and falling down. The standard of Dalaran was torn in places, and missing complete sections in others. It was a sad sight.

Simonee walked to the headless statue and brushed off the dust and dirt that had layered itself over the brass plate. He could hardly read most of the letters, but somehow figured out what it said:

**Dedicated to the Mages of Dalaran**

**This is for those that stand in the doorway of darkness,  
making known the Light.**

**_Jaina Proudmoore_**

There were some inscriptions below, but the text had been withered away from age. Simonee stepped back from the statue and turned to his group.

"This place is probably deserted. Check the houses, see if anyone is there," he said.

The three nodded and separated; Garret walked down the main street to the east, Aeriah checked the streets behind the town square, and Dagerly investigated the area west of the square.

_"If you are looking for the traitor, he has left."_

"What?" Simonee asked, startled by the mysterious voice.

_"The young man who sold his soul to the Defias Brotherhood. He is not in Dalaran," _the woman said.

"Then do you know where he is?"

_"Alas, I do not. But, I can instead point you in the right direction."_

"Where are you... can I speak with you?"

_"Walk to the last house on the left of the main street from where you are."_

Simonee followed the woman-voice's directions, and found himself staring down an old, leaning house. The building, from its appearance, was once painted blue, but the paint was chipped in places, faded in others, and completely non-existant in the rest. It was sadly sagging forward, looking as if it could collapse at any single moment with even the faintest of touches. Few thatched shingles still remained attached to the roof, and the rest was bare wood, open to the elements. The door was loosely hinged in its place, as if only by a thread. Simonee approached the house and opened the door. The house's interior conditions quite matched the exterior's. Dust had settled completely over nearly every object; one of the exceptions being the floor, showing signs of footsteps and of robes being dragged. There wasn't much light filtering through the dirty windows, and the light that did didn't do much in the way of lighting the small room. There was an old and tattered couch on the right wall, and on the left was another. At the back of the room was a circular table with three chairs. One was occupied.

A withery old woman sat in the chair on the right, while the two others sat in front of the table, and to the left, respectively. The woman had a weary smile creasing her wrinkled face.

"The one you seek left hours ago; he was under my care for his injuries, but he left sometime during the afternoon.I told him that he should be resting, but then again, that one was always reckless and carefree,' the woman said.

"Who are you?" Simonee asked, taking a seat in the center chair. The room smelled of dust and wax candlesticks, and long creaks could be heard reverberating throughout the old, cavernous wood that comprised the house.

"I am a healer... and I suppose a friend. My name is Sira Witherwinter. I used to be a priestess of the Order, until old age struck me. For the past forty or so years, I've been acting as Dalaran's town healer. I can still remember the day that the Scourge invaded. Oh, terrible memories they are."

"I was there too..." Simonee trailed off. "I was the one who alerted the town. I had just escaped from their march on Silvermoon, and they had followed me here."

"Ah... yes, you arrived a few days before the invasion. So you were the one that caused all the commotion in town..."

"Not to seem impatient, but what news have you on Krionoso? He is a fugitive of Stormwind that the king has bade me track down. I must know his whereabouts."

The old priestess chuckled. "Ah, if only I could tell you. All I know is that he had left yesterday afternoon to go elsewhere. I healed his injuries, and only after I did so did I fish out his treachery. He slept for awhile, but he must've woken and wandered off," she said.

Simonee grumbled. _'More useless information,'_ he thought.

"Oh no, not useless. Just rather... indirect. If you think, there is only one place he could've gone with injuries as extensive as his."

_'Southshore.'_

Simonee nearly smacked himself for not realizing it earlier.

"I don't see you making it back to Southshore before the nightly storm comes, so stay here. I have plenty of rooms and beds for both you and your companions. Go, collect them, and come back here. I'll fix supper in the meantime."

* * *

Four large shadows flitted across the ground; in one instant they were there, and in another, further down the road. The patrons of the small town of Southshore looked briefly up to the skies where four similarly large gryphons bore riders to the master at the outskirts, before returning to their work. Krionoso watched in silent horror as the figures riding the gryphons dismounted. He leaned on the frame of the doorway leading into the inn, deciding it was better than sitting down all day. Now he wished that he had been sitting.

Krionoso swiveled from his exposed position and placed his back on the interior wall. He slumped down, ending up sitting on the polished wooden floor. The bartender behind the bar chuckled.

"Some faces in town that you didn't wish to see?" he asked, placing his ever-damp rag on the counter.

"You could say that," Krionoso replied. He placed his head in his hands and waited; waited for Simonee to lead his gang into the inn and find him, a sitting duck on the floor.

The barkeep chuckled again before retreating into the kitchens.

_'So this is how it's going to end, eh?'_ Krionoso thought, still with his head buried.

When he expected to hear the shouting of Simonee, all he heard instead was a sharp_ click_. He looked up from his hands to see the long end of a barrel pointing at his face.

"I don't know who you are... I don't even care, but you seem to have brought some unwanted visitors to the town," the bartender said, his voice in a low growl.

Krionoso smiled. He shouldn't have been surprised. After all, lately everybody's been finding his little 'secret'.

"Are you going to kill me?" he asked the rifle-bearing barkeep.

The man hesitated momentarily, weighing his next move.

"No. But you can't stay here, tonight or any other. Not while I'm here. I expect your things packed and gone before the people start coming in this evening."

Another _click_ and the rifle was raised from its ready position. The bartender walked back behind the bar and placed his rifle underneath the counter. From there, he stared at Krionoso with daggers in his eyes.

Krionoso, however, was too busy starting to stand and take another look out from the doorway. Surprisingly, he didn't see either Simonee or any of his subordinates. They had apparently left for other places. He let out a deep sigh, content to be alive.

Only then did the mage notice the man behind the bar glaring at him. Krionoso let off another smile and began walking up the stairs. He began grimacing from pain when he reached halfway. He clenched his fist to his chest and continued on despite the pounding of his sternum.

It was a peaceful time after that, collecting what little he had used during the night and returning it into his pack. He had left the inn while the light from the sun was still barely visible against the blackened clouds that surrounded it on every side. Krionoso walked past the gryphon master with a wave and followed the road northward, which led to Tirisfal. Alongside the road, the trees that were robust in the foothills began to look progressively worse as he went along. It wasn't long before he stood adjacent the path into the Tarren Mill. And not long after that, he heard scuffling and a loud _crack_ as he was hit over the head with a sturdy plank of wood.

He woke with pain unparalleled in the back of his head. Krionoso dared not open his eyes, instead favoring the bleak darkness of the interior of his eyelids. He let off a groan as the pounding in his head continued and amplified.

"Ah... so the recruit's awake. Welcome, my good sir, to the Syndicate."

A/N: I am so evil. Yes, I am. So, Krionoso's gonna be a part of the Syndicate (is he?), Simonee's backtracking to Southshore, and WTF?! Why do I keep including the priestess? I dunno, but please, please! Read next chapter! Oh, and I'm sorta missing my little 'review crew'. Where ya been?


	7. Chapter 6: Vindication

Here's those darned review replies!

Matt: I do indeed count you now as part of the review crew! I'm glad you enjoyed the past few chapters, and I'm hoping it won't be too much longer until I unveil Simonee's staff's power.

Hint: Thanks for the review, buddy. It was much a pleasure to write the new additions!

Razielsdemise: And you spill it all on me at once again. Sheesh. Thanks for the review(s).

**Trial by Fire**

**Chapter Six: Vindication**

Krionoso finally opened his eyes. He sat in a small wooden chair set against the wall, facing a cavernous room. The room was blindingly dark, with the exception of several tall torches arranged in a ring around where he was sitting. The floor was comprised of roughly-hewn stone, as were the walls; at least as much as Krionoso could see. In the center of the ring of torchlight stood a man, about five-and-a-half feet tall. The man had blazing orange hair, disheveled and disorderly, which oddly matched the fire behind him. He wore simple robes that brushed the ground; a belt with a brilliant bronze buckle held the robes fast. He held his hands behind his back, and had a smug smile which showed his apparent triumph.

"What do you mean 'recruit'?" Krionoso asked, looking over the man.

"I mean that you're now part of the Syndicate. It's just as I said."

Now it was Krionoso's turn to smile. "Ah, but there is a problem, you see. I lead the Defias. Therefore I cannot rightfully join your little gang."

The man laughed harshly. "You expect me to believe that someone like _you_ could head up the Brotherhood? You must be quite a jester. Unless you can give me proof of this, you'll have no choice but to serve the Syndicate. Nice try, though."

Krionoso thought. What did he have to prove his allegiance? _'Ah, that's perfect,'_ he mused.

"I hope you don't mind if I fiddle in my pocket for a little, do you? For there lies my proof."

"Go right on ahead. I'd like to see this."

Krionoso slipped his hand into the pocket on his right side, and felt his proof immediately. Pulling it out, Krionoso allowed the tattered and torn deep red bandana to stir slightly in the stale air. The man across from him smiled.

"So you are a _part_ of the Brotherhood, that part is truthful... however, this doesn't prove anything about your standing within the organization," he said.

"Would a signed missive from Van Cleef himself do the trick?" Krionoso asked.

"Maybe."

Krionoso smirked again and pulled the letter from his pocket. The man gazed at it in disbelief.

"Here, take it, read it over. You can do whatever you want; that's definitely real," Krionoso said.

The man walked over and grabbed the parchment from the mage's hand. He read it quickly, afterward staring at the signature at the bottom of the page. He grunted.

"Heh, I don't believe it," he said. "What is your name, sir mage?"

"Krionoso. Yours?"

"Vaik, at your service. It has been awhile since the Syndicate has harbored such a high-ranking member of the Defias; though I wouldn't know the last time - I'm simply a rogue. So, how go things with the Brotherhood?" Vaik asked. He walked to one of the walls, and to a previously unseen wooden table. From there, he picked up a plateful of food and brought it over to Krionoso.

"First, shall I illuminate our little meeting chamber?"

"Aye, if you wish."

Krionoso stood from the chair and went along the perimeter of the chamber, feeling for the hidden sconces that lined the top of the walls. At each one, he channeled flame from his reserves and lit the small torches. When all were lit, he was able to see much more clearly. The room was made of stone, as Krionoso expected. It wasn't terribly vast, but nor was it terribly small. There wasn't much in the way of furniture besides the table placed against the wall and the chair he had been sitting in. Two doors were placed opposite each other - one on the wall with the table, one directly across from it. The doors were crafted finely from wood, with ornate handles made of brass. Sprawling lines wrought of iron were the only other decorations on either door. Content with the light, Krionoso returned to his seat on the uncomfortable wooden chair. Vaik handed him the plate and he placed it in his lap, preferring instead to begin stating the status of the Defias.

"Ah... we were supposed to have had an invasion of Stormwind, but I fear that it may have been thwarted. We had captured their king and I had been holding him, until a pesky group found me and rescued him. I used to be part of that group as a ruse, you see. Now they are hunting me down. They are probably in Dalaran now, as we speak," Krionoso said, picking up a small, flaky pastry and eating it.

Vaik looked at Krionoso and chuckled. "The Brotherhood's been rather ambitious in your care, have they? The leaders here would not dare even to think about attacking such a place as Stormwind. Although, I must say, the Defias are much more numerable and spread-out than we in the Syndicate are."

Just then, the door on the left side of the room - the side with the table - opened and in stepped in a squirrely man with a small frame, holding a piece of parchment. The messenger handed the parchment to Vaik and stepped out quickly.

"It seems as though you won't be kept here tonight, unless you so wish. If you do wish, we can give you a room," Vaik said, reading the parchment's contents.

"That is exactly what I wish. In my fight against that group, I was injured. I'm not exactly at my most mobile, and I can't travel for long periods of time without resting. I figure that if I stay here, I'll at least be safe and able to recuperate a small bit," Krionoso replied.

"So it shall be, then," Vaik said, holding his arm toward the door. Krionoso stood from the chair and Vaik led him out of the room, through the same door the messenger had used.

Outside of the room was a stone corridor, designed in the same vain as the room - hewn from large stones, and illuminated by a multitude of candlelit sconces. He was led through hallways and through empty rooms, and eventually into a rather large chamber. Torches were set into brackets placed in corners of the room, and the flickering orange illuminated the expanse. A bed was placed against the right wall, with a couple of small dressers pressed against the headboard. There were no windows in the room, and the only decorations were the bracketed torches.

"Here is where you'll be staying," Vaik said.

"Rather bleak, isn't it? Oh well... I'm not one to complain about a free room," Krionoso replied.

Vaik laughed. "No, I don't think I'd complain either. Well, this is where I leave you. For as long as you're here, you have access to all of our facilities and such. Enjoy your stay," he said.

"I will be sure to."

* * *

Simonee had had a restful night's sleep. Sira had been kind enough not only to cook his group dinner and allow them to board in her house, but she had also made breakfast for them. The house was in less disrepair than Simonee had originally thought. Though it was unsightly, every part of it was fully functional.

Morning was rather lazy, as Simonee and his group did nearly nothing besides eat. Sparse conversation littered the time, but except for that and the constantly-groaning house, all was silent. Simonee was still mulling the thought of Krionoso being in Southshore. Had he been there as they passed through? Better yet, had he been watching them from one of the buildings? The mage was unsettled.

As afternoon finally rolled about, Simonee and his group decided it was best if they had left for the port town. And so they trekked back to Southshore, making it before the afternoon was out. As they walked in, Simonee waved to the gryphon master who simply waved back at him. The town was full of as much traffic as there could possibly be, as people walked between buildings, through shops, and out of the schoolyard. Rush hour in Southshore was quite a mess. Simonee was rather reminded of the Trade District in Stormwind on a somewhat off day.

Carefully making their way through the crowd, Simonee and his group found the tavern; although not without scrapes and bruises to show for their excursion. A muscularly large man stood behind the bar, mindlessly wiping at the counter with a rag. Behind the bar lay a kitchen, rather small compared to the one Simonee occupied for a short time in Darnassus. The tavern was rapidly filling with people coming in from their work shifts to become boisterously inebriated. The turnout was more than even the Lion's Pride could boast. Simonee was reminded of the ill-fated place. Sighing, he pushed the thought from his mind.

Simonee approached the bartender and leaned on the long, slender plank of maple that was fashioned into the counter.

"So what is the happy hour special?" he asked.

The bartender looked up and smiled. "That would be the Flaming Whelp. Care to try?"

"Sure thing. One for each of my group, please," Simonee replied.

The mage sat on one of the stools lining the bar and waited while the bartender mixed the drinks. His group did likewise, and soon, all four sat with drinks in front of them, and a band beginning to warm up for the night's performance. The Flaming Whelp was made of several different liquors, and felt a bit like being having its namesake hit you in the head. It was certainly a powerful cocktail. Soon, Simonee found himself drunk, without even having finished the first round.

"My sir... that... is a v-very good... drink," he said, beginning to stumble around his weighted tongue.

"We don't call it the Flaming Whelp for nothing!" the bartender replied, laughing.

Even through his drunkenness, Simonee knew it would be a hell of a hangover in the morning. The band played on and people continued making their way inside. It didn't seem like too much longer until Simonee blacked out.

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A/N: That would make it a chapter! Wow, I can't believe it's up to six chapters and a prologue already! It seemed like just yesterday that I started it! Oh well, time flies when you're having fun, now doesn't it. HA! I didn't make Krio a part of the Syndicate (though I must say I'm thinking that his and Vaik's conversation is missing... something. I dunno). Well, that's chapter six, thanks for reading, and don't forget to drop a review!


	8. Chapter 7: The Morning After

What? Review replies?

Matt: Ah... there is a method to my madness. Don't worry, the Syndicate isn't going to accept him so easily - you'll see. I give you the utmost thanks for your continued support and reviews.

Scion: You've ruined the secret! Oh well. Everyone, I would like to introduce Scion13 as my mystery guest author. He will soon begin work on a chapter or three, and I hope you all accept him as you have me. And Scion, as for Krio's regret, it's still there, but I figured it would get a little repetetive if I mentioned it in every single chapter. Thanks for the review.

**Trial by Fire**

**Chapter Seven: The Morning After**

Simonee woke once more with a headache, the only difference this time being that it was rather self-induced. Risking a look at his surroundings, Simonee found himself atop a wooden table. Sunlight rushed through the window - adding to the horrid pain in his head - and with this light, the mage saw each of his friends, sleeping in some immaculate positions. Aeriah was slumped horizontally over a chair, his arms hanging limp beside his head; his legs had been likewise suspended over the opposite side of the wooden seat. Dagerly still sat at the bar, his head - resting on the counter with his ear in contact with the wood - the only thing keeping him somewhat upright. His back was slouched, and his arms and legs dangled beneath him. Garret lay on the floor, sleeping on top of two very unfortunate patrons from the night prior as if they were a mattress. Even with the weight of the shaman on top of them, both slept fitfully. Rising from his bed on top of the table, Simonee rubbed the leftover sleep from his eyes.

The bartender was still standing behind the bar, serving the few people still conscious after the last night's boisterous party. Stumbling off of the table, Simonee scuffled his way to the stools. Short flashes of memory passed their way through Simonee's mind, reminders of the confused events of happenings during his period of extreme inebriation.

One scene was him, shouting out the words to a tavern melody, in no particular tune. Another memory followed in short order, showing him laughing as a fight broke out between a gnome and a dwarf. The gnome from the memory lied with a black eye beside the bar, his breathing steady and peaceful. As Simonee remembered it, the gnome had indeed been punted there. The black eye had come from him sailing into one of the bar stools. The visions were jumbled, as if someone had cut pieces of a puzzle out of them, and they were waiting to be reconnected in the right order. Memories blended into each other; at one moment Simonee saw himself dancing a jig on the table, that memory interrupted by another, showing himself drinking shots with fellow patrons of the tavern. Soon, though, Simonee gave up trying to piece together the evening before, content to simply make it to the bar and sit back down.

Simonee's head threatened to split with the tremendously thundering headache, its magnitude increasing with every heartbeat. He didn't remember quite how many Flaming Whelps he had downed, but whatever the number was, it definitely wasn't for the better. The bartender watched as Simonee gingerly raised himself to the stool with a smile.

"Have fun last night?" he asked.

Simonee chuckled, to the chagrin of his aching head. "I suppose you could say that," he replied.

The bartender placed a mug in front of the mage, and said, "Drink. It'll help with that hangover of yours."

Inside the mug was coffee. Simonee obliged the man without argument. When the cup was emptied, Simonee was beginning to feel infinitely better.

When his head began to clear, he asked, "Do you have any whereabouts of a mage that has recently passed through here? He was wearing blue robes, had rather messy brown hair, stood about my height?"

The bartender eyed Simonee before replying. "Why do you need to know? Are you enforcers or wardens of some kind?"

Simonee shook his head. "Neither, but the king of Stormwind needs us to track him down and kill him... for the safety of the kingdom. Have you seen him?"

The bartender hesitated momentarily. "Yes," he sighed, "I pushed him out yesterday. From what I hear, he began traveling northward, towards Tirisfal."

Simonee raised his eyebrow, and asked himself, "Tirisfal? What would he be doing there?"

The bartender shrugged. At this point, Garret had woken and stood up from his bed on top of the two people - still asleep.

He goaned and mumbled, "What happened last night?"

Simonee chuckled, saying, "I have no clue. You alright?"

Scratching unkempt hair - which had found its way out of the usual ponytail - Garret replied in a mere grumble. The bartender quickly supplied the draenei with a mug of coffee, just as quickly moving off into the kitchen. Garret looked into the inky black liquid and grunted again. He gently pushed the porcelain cup away from him and placed his elbows on the counter. Whispering incantations, an intense blue light began to form around his hands before transferring to his ridged forehead. A brightly shining golden insignia materialized just above the surface of skin where the spell was being cast, while blue wisps of light began curling around the small ivory horns that had protruded away from the crown of Garret's head. Almost as soon as the spell began, the wisps had faded from view, leaving the shifting golden insignia lingering. Garret sighed and slumped as far back on the backless stool as he dared.

"That's much better," he said, closing his eyes.

Simonee had been watching in amazement, and when it was all over, asked, "What was that? I thought you were a shaman... not a priest."

"Ah, but I am a shaman. That was something the Naaru left my people with. They call it - and aptly, I might add - the Gift of the Naaru. It comes in handy in a bind," Garret replied. At that, the leftover magic that had created the golden icon had faded, leaving only an imprint of it in Simonee's mind.

Soon, both heard a shuffle behind them, and watched in amusement as the still-limp form of Aeriah began twitching. After moments passed of the twitching, the night elf rolled off of the chair and made contact with the ground in a loud _thump_.

"Ohhhhh..." he grumbled. As he began to stand, he clutched his hands to his head and stumbled slowly towards the bar.

Through the commotion, Dagerly had also woken. His neck was stiff from having slept in his awkward position for nearly the entirety of the night, and as such, he rose with as much personality as a roach after a particularly accurate shot of bug repellent. He rubbed the stiff muscles with both hands, forcing his back straight at the same time. The bartender walked from the kitchen, grasping two more mugs of strong black coffee, setting both down in front of both of the newly-woken group members. The tavern was silent with the absence of the night prior's band and crowd.

Outside, the citizens of the town meandered on to whatever business held their attention; they were unaware of the silent microcosm forming inside the now-cavernous tavern. Sunlight continued to stream through the glass panes of the windows, while a breeze was steadily building upon itself. It was turning out to be a beautiful post-winter day. The cold and grey days were gone, replaced by the bright, cheerful, and blooming tones of spring. Simonee could almost see the future flowers blossoming in the quaint little gardens, as they were tended to by happy women and their small children.

The bartender cleared his throat, bringing Simonee away from his reverie.

"That'll be 3 gold pieces for the drinks, the coffee, and the night's stay."

Sighing, Simonee reached to his coinpurse. Dagerly cut him off before the motion was complete.

"Sim, I've got this," he said, grasping his own coinpurse. He loosened the drawstring and Simonee heard the clanking of quite more than a few gold coins.

Gaping, he asked, "Where'd you get all of that?"

Dagerly smiled. Without missing a beat, he slid five pieces down the bar to the bartender, and replied, "Darnassus. I took on a small bit of work."

Simonee grunted and smiled. "I should've known you would have needed to do _something_," he said.

The afternoon came quite soon after the short morning, as the sun shining down on Southshore witnessed Simonee leading his group from the inn and onto the road. The breeze that had occupied the morning air continued through the street, providing warmth and comfort. Children ran in the sole town street, laughter filling the air. Simonee smiled at the sight of the young ones playing. It reminded him of him before the Scourge invaded the peaceful town of Silvermoon. Carefree and fun-loving; the way he wished he could live now. Thoughts brought him back to the solemn sight of Goldshire, lying in ruins upon the ground, smoldering like a pile of firewood left to itself inside a fireplace. The people there were friendly and fun enough to be around, and look at what happened to them. The ruthlessness of life was sometimes too much to bear. The Defias didn't help that, and neither did the politicians of Stormwind - greedy and self-serving as Illidan himself, albeit a small bit better-looking. Simonee thought back to what Varian said to he and his group last, prior to the gryphon ride to the port town, _"This city - this world - needs heroes." _If only he knew how dire that need was. The scope of the position the mage was in simply dwarfed him; it was too much for a mere mage to ponder.

Simonee barely realized that he had all-of-a-sudden began clenching his hands into fists and scowling at the ground. Loosening up slightly, Simonee looked up to the blazing sun in the sky. The sight of the bright orange sun calmed him, and his hands finally relinquished the fists that they had balled themselves into.

"Are you alright, Sim?" asked Aeriah, shaking Simonee by the shoulder. The mage turned his head to look at the druid, frustration in his eyes. When Simonee looked at Aeriah, he softened a bit and looked again to the ground before he responded.

"Yeah... yeah, I think I'll be fine," the mage said in reply.

Not wanting to allow his thoughts to swallow him again, Simonee took the opportunity to begin the trek north. The town road branched off after not a hundred feet from the town itself; the road that led east gently curved northward, while the road trailing off to the west took its travelers past Dalaran and into the forests of Silverpine - another territory taken from the humans by the undead Forsaken. Silverpine Forest now served as a breeding ground for worgs and other demonically-tainted creatures lurking in the passages of Shadowfang Keep. It wasn't a place for lighthearted fools to stumble into unawares; powerful maniac mages and dogs of the Nether weren't something to tangle with without experience and a fair amount of luck.

Through the traveling, Simonee watched as the sky grew dark with a cloud of the visible taint spreading over the horizon from Tirisfal, despite it still only being afternoon. The premature night covered over half of the sky by the time the group was adjacent to the Tarren Mill. Looking further off into the distance to the east, a towering fortress could be seen, its perimeter patrolled by poorly-stealthed bandits wielding long knives. Simonee stopped. The fortress looked like a good prospect for a hiding criminal. Motioning to his three followers, he began to slowly make his way from the road and down a gentle decline in the land, walking towards the shadow of the menacing stone castle.

* * *

A/N: Well, I think that about does it for chapter seven! Next chapter, as I'm proud to announce, Scion will write. I'm sure he is quite capable, and I have naught but the highest hopes for him and his additions to the story. Please, read, review, toss the story in a salad, or whatever! But, please, tell me what you think. I'm glad to hear from you all.


	9. Scion: Chapter 8: The Escape?

* * *

Hey everyone! Scion13 here with the next chapter you all have been (impatiently) waiting for!

(Ah... thanks to Scion for putting his time into helping me out with this. I only hope to return the favor soon.

Review replies:

Whim: Look who decided to stop by and say hi! Thanks for the review and for your kind words.

Matt: I decided it was best for the story that there not be that much drama. I mean, it seems a bit unlucky to have something happen to the group right after a hangover like that.

Razielsdemise: Thank you for keeping track this time. It's not fun reading 5+ reviews from the same person although I never mind. Thanks for the review.

Scion: Glad to see you were able to straighten things out. I was anticipating what you could do with the story!

Without further ado: Scion-written chapter eight of Trial by Fire!)

**Trial by Fire**

**Chapter Eight: The Escape?**

Krionoso woke up slowly and drudgingly. It was almost as if he was being dragged through mud and into consciousness. He opened his eyes and saw the concrete roof. He blinked a few times and brought his hands up to his eyes to attempt to rub his eyes, but dropped them with a gasp. His chest gave a lurch at the attempt. The dull pain was lessened, and the shooting, fiery lances only lasted a few seconds this time after trying to move that certain way. After he was sure it was safe, he slowly sat up and leaned over, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and bringing his hand up. With a small exclamation and an expression of power the torches around the room flared to life, and Krionoso closed his eyes and dropped his head to his chest. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, bringing his head up and looking around the room.

Krionoso smiled to himself a little. At least he was well rested. Too bad he couldn't see the sun from his room. He had no idea what time it was and wanted to know how long he slept. Krionoso stood slowly, noticing a little more mobility then before. Being on the run definitely takes a toll, but some good 'ole fashion sleep does wonders for a crushed chest.

He walked slowly over to the table and gingerly took a seat. There was some parchment and a quill on the table, but Krionoso didn't see any reason to write anything. He sat there and rested a bit, analyzing the smells of the room and taking everything in. It wasn't long before it realized there were no exits other then the door, but he dismissed the thought.

_'Vaik has orders; I'm safe for a while.'_ Krionoso thought.

After a while he walked back to his bed and went back to sleep. He dreamed of Simonee and the rest of his group.

Krionoso was running through the streets of Dalaran. Simonee was right behind him, readying a Fireblast spell and throwing it at him. Krionoso dodged at last minute and one of the pillars beside him exploded in flame, pelting Simonee in marble shards as he ran. He cursed as the shards bit into him, but Krionoso didn't give thought to that. He simply ran.

It wasn't long before Simonee finally hit him. A Fireball incinerated Krionoso's left foot off and he had fallen with a yell of pain and surprise. Krionoso was looking up at Simonee as he charged a massive Pyroblast between his hands. Simonee's look of hatred forced Krionoso's blood cold.

"_**TRAITOR!!"**_

Simonee's voice was everyone's voice in one. Dince, Akall, Garret, Simonee, and even his own voice were mixed together to create an incredible cacophony… and all the pain of the dead rogue and priest, the agony and loss of Simonee, the shamanistic rage of Garret and his own subdued self-loathing all mixed together and assaulted him through that one simple word. Simonee's eyes burned righteously with the fire that covered Krionoso a second later. Krionoso could feel every flame licking his flesh.

Krionoso woke in a cold sweat and yelled out, bringing his hand up and inadvertently letting loose an Arcane Bolt. The Syndicate assassin that was poised over Krionoso took the bolt straight in the face and was dead before he hit the ground, the poisoned daggers falling from his hands with a light clatter. Krionoso jerked back from the body of the rogue, earning himself a stab in his chest. He was almost sure one of those daggers had fallen into it, and was twisting and turning inside him. But he looked at the dead, faceless assassin and grimaced.

The next thing he heard was the slow footsteps coming down the hallway. He shot up from the bed, ignoring his chest pains and crouched down beside the door. The man stepped into the room. His face was covered with a black mask but the ornate daggers at his side denoted a high rank in the Syndicate.

Krionoso stood and faced the man. The Syndicate officer let out a sigh and shook his head, regarding the faceless body before him.

"Poor bastard. I was sure that mage would be sleeping." The man turned around to Krionoso's purple-covered hand in his face. Krionoso's face was twisted in anger and betrayal.

"Don't speak. Just die." Krionoso's words reflected the series of Arcane Missiles that flew from his hand and slammed into various body parts that, unfortunately for the officer, were still connected to him. The man fell to the ground with fist-sized holes in various places of his body. The mask had fallen off his face and a look of surprise and terror was carved into his face. Krionoso rolled his shoulders slowly and groaned, his hand reaching his chest and kneading gently. He turned and walked up the hallway slowly.

The Keep had been roused. Krionoso could hear the yelling of men and the padding of shoes slapping the concrete floor. He ducked behind a door, several black clad men running past him to Krionoso's former room. He had been staring at the door and didn't notice the surprised figure behind him. A cold steel blade was pressed against the back of his neck.

"Your hands. Now, mage!" A familiar voice. Vaik.

Krionoso put his hands on his head and let Vaik turn him around. Those same eyes that had been promising him sanctuary were now wishing his destruction. The blade poked against his stomach, not quite cutting him yet. Vaik grinned.

"You know that paper I got when we were talking? It was orders for your death. Maybe I should have done it right then and there. Would have saved a few good men's lives." Vaik ran the blade up and down Krionoso's stomach slowly.

"Such a pity. You can't even run to criminals. The Syndicate won't have you, your own country won't have you, and the Horde will kill you… where would you go, Krionoso? Where _could_ you go, Krionoso?" Vaik sneered.

Before Vaik could react a Mana Shield had flicked the dagger from his hand and wrapped itself around Krionoso. Krionoso shoved the rogue away from him; Vaik stumbled back, rolling to the ground and picking up his ornate officer's dagger as he rolled. He came around and mumbled a few words, shadowy energy falling over him. Krionoso brought forth his Arcane Missiles and every single arcane projectile was absorbed by the shadowy shroud. Vaik laughed and shook his head slowly. He came forward and jabbed his dagger at Krionoso's neck, scoring the Mana Shield and weakening it slightly. Krionoso felt a slight pang as the blow took a chunk out of his mana pool. Krionoso grimaced and Blinked to the other side of the room. Vaik's footsteps left traces of shadowy energy wherever he stepped.

"Beware, mage. Your spells mean nothing against my Cloak of Shadows!" Vaik drew another dagger into his hand and came forth, attacking with both. One scored the Mana Shield, breaking it, and one Krionoso had been able to move out of the way of. The Mana Shield had absorbed most of the force of the blow, but the remaining force threw Krionoso to his back, causing his chest to light on fire. His mana reserves were depleted and he could barely move. Vaik came forward and thrust his daggers down on Krionoso with a murderous smile on his face. Krionoso was just barely able to grab the rogue's wrists and his arms started trembling as he tried to hold Vaik's deadly knives away.

_'Should have paid more attention in my physical classes…'_ Sweat beaded on Krionoso's brow as the daggers came dangerously close.

"Face it, Krionoso. You have nothing, and you're going to die a traitor's death. Not even your magics can save you now!" Vaik taunted the crumbling mage under him and laughed.

The shadowy energy was licking at Krionoso's hands and starting to run down Vaik's blades as the sweat on Krionoso's brow. Suddenly, the Cloak of Shadows finally gave out and left Vaik in only his physical form. Krionoso called upon the last dregs of his mana and fired out arcane energy from his entire body, causing an Arcane Explosion. The Arcane Explosion was small, at best, and was enough to vault Vaik into the air and hit the back wall with a small _thud_. Vaik stood up just as quickly, but Krionoso had stood as well, holding a large orange citrine in his hand.

Krionoso crushed the citrine in his hand and felt his mana pool strengthen. With that, he thrust his hands forward and let loose four large Arcane Bolts. The Bolts slammed into Vaik's chest, tearing the leather armor to shreds and flaying the skin underneath. Vaik fell backwards, his entire chest a bleeding mess, and hit the ground with the dull _thud_ of dead weight.

Krionoso looked at the body of Vaik with contempt.

"Friggen' rogues." He spat at the floor and turned away, walking towards the door. His chest ached and was throbbing in sync with his heart. He walked on.

Krionoso flexed his hands as he walked down the hallway, coming up on the exit of the Keep. His mana pool had been regenerating as he walked and he was almost at full. A black-clad man was walking in the opposite direction and was startled when Krionoso saw him. Krionoso grasped his chest and looked at the man.

"Vaik is hurt! Go back and help him!" Krionoso had an edge of panic in his voice and he widened his eyes as if in fear. The black-clad man nodded quickly and ran back the way Krionoso came. Sweat trickled down Krionoso's brow. Too close.

He made it to the exit of the Keep and noticed that he was not the only one causing a ruckus. Groups of soldiers, lead by a knight garbed in full Truesilver Armor wielding a golden axe. The Truesilver knight was very nimble, weaving in and of battle and swinging his axe nimbly, as if it weighed nothing. One Syndicate man, dressed in traditional black leather, came at the knight and was chopped in half with a massive, two-handed swing. The man's blood and entrails rained upon the ground. Several of the mail-garbed warriors roared in triumph and rushed the Keep, swinging their weapons wildly as their bloodlust consumed them. The Truesilver knight continued on with his men and led them to the Keep… and right to Krionoso.

Krionoso just stood there with his mouth wide open. He fell to his knees in terror as the gleaming, perfect Truesilver knight came forward with his axe, ready to cleave Krionoso's head right off. He put his hands up and closed his eyes as he yelled.

"In the name of the Alliance, truce!" Krionoso remembered the call from his time with Simonee in Stormwind. It was supposed to be a call from one warrior to another to call for peace.

The Truesilver knight hesitated and strapped the axe to the back of the armor. The knight's hand came up and removed the helmet, revealing a mass of straight, long brown hair and electric blue eyes. The woman knight looked Krionoso up and down.

"And how do you know the Warrior's Creed..." She took a good look at him, "Mage?"

Krionoso sighed softly in relief. "I traveled in Stormwind with friends once and heard of it. Please, mi'lady, I beg you, do not disembowel me. I am not of the Syndicate." Krionoso was attempting to stand, but his chest injury was preventing him.

'Oh Gods, she had told me to be careful. What if I did too much and damaged my chest forever…' Krionoso thought in horror. The Truesilver knight regarded Krionoso.

She nodded to two of her men. "Pick him up. He may have some information we may need. He might prove useful. Be careful, he seems injured." She nodded to her men and detached her axe and walked into the keep. All but two men followed her into the keep. Screams could be heard from the enterance.

The two men held Krionoso's arms gently and guided him out of the Syndicate area. Both men had strange, unfamiliar insignias on their pristine tabards. The armor they were wearing, Krionoso noticed, was nothing like he had ever seen before.

_'Out of the frying pan and into the fire…'_ Was Krionoso's last thought before he fell unconscious.

* * *

A/N (python): Well, thanks to Scion again for the chapter, and I hope you all look forward to his next as I do. Please, read, review, and respond to the story to him, and not me. I'm sure he'll appreciate it. Hopefully I'll be able to update again soon!


	10. Chapter 9: Hot on the Trail

A/N: Well, sorry it took me so long to update again, but here I am again with the ninth chapter in _Trial_. Boy did writer's block hit me hard here. Oh well, got over it, and now here we are with the chapter... after review replies, of course.

Matt: We all are, and I'm so glad that Scion came up with our little 'swap-a-story' idea. Without the correspondence we had, the story may not have ever had that twist! Thanks for the review, and I'll pass on the kind words to Scion.

Whim: Wow, you are crazy lately... thanks for the review anyway, and yes, creepiness ensues... I guess. Here's to you, although you probably don't need any more to drink... just kidding.

**Trial by Fire**

**Chapter Nine: Hot on the Trail  
**

The tavern had been as busy as always, its customers taking up tables, ordering, and devouring their food in short order. Aubs took nearly two-hundred orders during her shift alone, not even counting the three other waiters' and waitresses' orders. She had led this hectic existence for almost a week after having left Simonee's group in favor of chasing down an everyday life untouched by the excitement of adventure. The first thing she had done in her search was securing herself a job at the Gilded Rose as a waitress. It paid rather well for the work, and with the regularly-given large tips, she had even been able to pay for a flat in the Old Town.

Aubs had missed the group's company, but in their stead, she had made friends within the Gilded Rose's staff. They were nice people - easy enough to joke around and make acquaintances with - and each had small mannerisms that made them unique. The cook, Petrii, sang everyday at the top of his lungs, making any bad day into a stress-free holiday. Jacob, one of the waiters, brought a airy demeanor and a smile to die for to the tavern everyday. Ellen and Ivory, the two other waitresses, were always slinging harmless insults at each other when they went back into the kitchens to pick up dishes for delivery to the tables. Even the janitors had a great time. For Aubs, work was definitely something new everyday, between her tables and the atmosphere.

After her seven-hour shift, Aubs was walking home after the dinner rush. She was taking the long way to the Old Town; instead of going straight across the bridge into the district, she had gone to the Mage Quarter, wanting to study in the sanctum for a while. She climbed the winding stone slope, after which entering the tower, and climbing up the spiral staircase lining the interior. Once she reached the pinnacle of that, she stepped through the portal into the sanctum proper. There, about a handful of magicians were practicing slinging spells and soaking the information from librams the three times the size of a normal dictionary.

The sanctum could be described as a very large room with bookshelves lining either side; both sets of bookshelves full to capacity. In the small spaces in between the bookshelves, tables had been placed, and on many of the tables, scientific, alchemic, and arcane testing supplies had been strewn. Two swirling green portals sat on opposite ends of each other - on the walls unoccupied by the veritable library - one used as an entrance, while the other was used for incoming teleportations to the city.

Aubs took in the sights for a short moment before walking in and browsing the myriad books. It wasn't long before she found a tome she liked. Sitting in one of the hard wooden seats lining the tables, she set the book on her lap and began reading. She whiled away the hours simply reading and didn't even notice. It seemed like only minutes had passed when she was interrupted by a faint whisper of a voice inside of her head.

"_Aubrey…"_

"What?" she asked, receiving looks from the other patrons of the sanctum.

"_Aubrey… you must come to Dalaran."_

Deciding to be more discreet, Aubs whispered, "But why?"

"_There is much you must learn here, young child."_ And with that, the mysterious voice faded away, leaving Aubs completely confused.

"Looks like I'm off to Dalaran tomorrow, then," she whispered. Closing the book and replacing it, she walked back down the decline and to the Old Town. The streets of Stormwind were empty, and only the torches hung on the building walls kept her company. Within a few minutes, she was in the flat, staring at the disorderly mess on the floor. Sighing, she began to take up all of the miscellaneous items littered across the wood planks.

All-in-all, her living quarters were rather large for a single occupant - though would be considered small by conventional standards. Greatly oversized drapes hung over her windowed walls, falling all the way down to the floor, with tassels acting as drawstrings. The floor was comprised of simple, unadorned wooden planks; they were so simple, they had not even been varnished to protect them from day-to-day traffic. There was a small reclining chair resting in front of a similarly small fireplace for chilly winter nights, where Aubs would simply sit and read the night away, much as she had inside the sanctum. Her bed rested against the wall away from the door - draped across which was the Moonkin-hide blankets so generously given to her by Aeriah. The blanket was as disheveled as the floor had been, as Aubs hadn't even decided to tidy up the room before she left for work that morning. Nor would it be cleaned now, so late in the evening. She climbed into the bed and sighed again, taking in the sensations of her new home.

Home.

Such an unfamiliar word ever since she met Simonee.

* * *

Simonee watched as the tower burst to life. First the arrival of a group of knights, then a large skirmish, and then the knights dragging away a prisoner. Whatever happened there, he was sure he didn't want to be a part of it. The group of four didn't make it too far towards the building before the action began, and had taken up a small hiding area behind some of the local flora. When the action ended, Simonee stood. Putting his hand up to shade his eyes from whatever sun there was peeking through the tainted green clouds of Tirisfal, Simonee attempted to glean more from the scene. He wasn't able to gain much.

"Nothing," he reported to the others. "Let's go check it out anyway; maybe we'll find _something."_

Garret, Dagerly, and Aeriah nodded and stood. They followed Simonee across the small field, toward the tower. It stood at nearly twenty feet high, leaning ever so slightly. It was made of stone and mortar, much in the vein of Stormwind - and most of the humans' settlements. Littering the tower grounds were bodies - at least fifteen, at Simonee's count. Each body was similarly dressed with leather cuirass, leggings, bracers and greaves, and cloth pauldrons. They had wielded mostly small daggers with almost no added luxury besides a small engraving showing the wielder's name.

Moving through the mass of dead bodies, Simonee quickly found the entrance to the fortress and walked slowly inside. The corridor was not well-lit, and sconces, chandeliers, and torches were rarely seen hanging from the walls. There had been no windows either, and the darkness had made it a very dreary walk in the tower, with naught but the straightness of the place to keep the four from falling astray. The only break in the path came at a small junction that seemingly led further into the building - and even then, it was the keen eyes of Aeriah that helped to divine the turn. The junction came in the shape of a 'T'; one path where Simonee and his group had come, which led on further down, with a left turn branching off.

Deciding it was best for their luck to break the monotony of the straight-line travel, Simonee led the other three into the turn.

As it turned out, the turn wasn't the best of ideas.

Waiting in the corridor was a battalion of soldiers, simply sneering at the group.

"Oh… hello, guys. Would you mind telling me how to get to the Burning Steppes?" Simonee asked. Behind his back, he primed a Pyroblast. When it was ready, he swung his arm from behind his back and flung the spell at the flabbergasted soldiers. "I seem to be a little LOST!" he shouted, finally loosing the spell.

The men scattered away from the flaming ball of wrath, though not all could escape the immolation. Those that weren't killed immediately by the blast took back their defensive positions, swords poised at Simonee and his now battle-ready group.

"Sorry, guys, no standoff for you!" Garret shouted, rushing into the group. Simonee was shocked for a few moments, but soon resigned to watching the carnage unfold. Garret was swinging his hammer at anything moving inside the group, quite simply cutting a swath of broken bone and pain through the men. It was mere seconds before the skirmish ended.

The group quickly moved on, following the corridor into the tower. It wasn't too long before they came across a mangled body lying on the floor, alongside of which being a medic and two others.

Simonee, feeling bold, stepped forward a bit and asked, "What happened to him?"

The medic looked up at him for a brief moment before answering, "I haven't a clue! All I know is that he's dead, with a hole in the middle of 'im!"

"Right… can I take a look?"

"You're not getting much more outta him than I could get, but sure," the medic said, backing away.

Simonee walked up to the body and kneeled. What the medic said was true; the man had a quite sizable hole blasted through him. A quick check confirmed that it was created by arcane means.

"Krionoso. We're on his trail," he said. He paused a bit, concentrating. "Oh… damn! Those soldiers must've dragged him away! Come on, guys, we've gotta go find them."

Dagerly sighed. "Here we go again…"


	11. Chapter 10: Risks and Benefits

****

Trial by Fire

**Chapter Ten: Risks and Benefits**

Being captured was quickly becoming a job requirement for Krionoso. It didn't take him long to realize that he was currently bound to a chair with a blindfold covering his eyes. The next thing he found after that was an extremely foul reek, seeming to emanate from the room itself. It smelled like a heaping pile of compost with quite a few decomposing bodies thrown in for good measure.

A small trace of light was able to filter through the thin cotton strip as Krionoso began to see beyond the inky black, but other than that, nothing. However, that was before the veil was removed. Before him stood a small, knee-high round table covered in all sorts of candles, with the wicks burned down to various sizes. The wax spilled freely onto the wood, but nobody said a thing about it. Quaint flames tried to bravely stand the small putrid wisps of air, each no brighter than another. But when they were all standing next to each other in such close proximity, it was nearly as if they could rival the sun. Of course, it didn't help that Krionoso had been in darkness for the past two days. After his pupils adjusted to the flickering light, he beheld something behind the table. There were five chairs situated around it, but only the one directly across from him was taken up. Sitting in full truesilver armor was the leader of the band of knights that had taken him from the Syndicate's tower. Behind the leader stood the rest of the knights, each still in armor. Krionoso found it only too easy to imagine the venomous glares he was receiving from behind those brilliant masks.

As for the predicament he was in, it was not looking much better than when he was shouting nonsense at the entrance of the tower to save his own hide.

It took a few moments of his drowsy confusion before leader began to speak. "So... mage..." he started deliberately with disdain. "What were you doing with the Syndicate when you know of the code?"

Krionoso sighed, preparing himself for the all-too-likely event that the knights wouldn't believe a single word he said.

"Well?" the sitting knight prodded.

"I was pressganged into service... I was pulled from the road unwillingly by the Syndicate, and when I regained consciousness, I found myself inside the tower. In fact, it wasn't too long before you showed up and rescued me," Krionoso replied. It was the first time in weeks he had found himself stating the truth and enjoying it.

The knights' expressions were inscrutable underneath their metal helms as they pondered the next move. All Krionoso was able to see was the reflection of the candles on the table showing in the brilliantly luminous armor. The flickering flames were beginning to sway dangerously to one side, threatening to extinguish at the slightest moment. The motion proved to be all the darkness needed in order to press closer to the table and those around it. Krionoso scoffed inwardly, _'Just what I need... mood lighting.' _The room was completely silent other than the muted rustling of the small chain links as they rubbed together. When the leader finally spoke up again, it seemed to be a roar in comparison.

"I don't know who you are. I don't know why you know quite as much as you do - including the warrior's code. I don't even know whether or not you're telling the truth or if you're part of the Syndicate. But, seeing as I'm not of any true authority, I can't see a reason why I should turn you in. Erron, the blindfold if you will."

The black cloth was once again placed over Krionoso's eyes and tied behind his head, leaving him with only impressions of where the knights, the table, and the chairs had been moments before. When he was just able to regain sight of the candlelight through the cotton, the knight added, "Sorry, but we can't exactly have you speaking of our headquarters' location to anyone. You see, we're less than lawful ourselves..."

That was when Krionoso felt the ropes on his hands undone, shortly thereafter being pulled gruffly to his feet. "I really do hope you've had a wonderful stay. Erron, please lead him to the door."

Almost on the verge of resisting the man who was called Erron, Krionoso was pushed away from the table, and plunged into darkness. There were apparently no candles to light the way, being that he wasn't even able to see the small amount he had been able to when he was sitting at the table. So, walking in complete silence, Krionoso allowed himself to be pushed deeper and deeper into the complete black. It took more than a few minutes for the lingering presence of Erron's hand to leave him, and he was absolutely sure that the man had led him much further than just the door. When he was sure he was alone, Krionoso shot his hands up to the large knot at the back of his head and untied the cotton binding. Peeling the blindfold off, he was able to see exactly where he was. He recognized it quickly, even through the veil of night. The Old Town district of Stormwind was unmistakeable. Elder buildings sagged on their tired foundations, and the paint that had been applied almost decades ago was chipping and peeling. Candleholders resting atop seven-foot-tall posts illuminated the small, constricting street, showing the way into the impressive Honor Hold building. The building also housed the shady rogues' guild: SI:7.

Suddenly, a thought crossed his mind - _'Could it have been SI:7?' _He quickly dispelled that notion; SI:7 was fully sanctioned by the government of Stormwind, but the knight in the room had told him that his bunch was 'less than lawful'.

Krionoso put no more stock in the matter. Instead, he was ecstatic to be loosed within the city. Happily, he walked toward the entrance to the canals. He had a small bit of business to attend to inside the city, and now was the perfect time to get it done, while he still didn't have to worry about the king's lapdogs following closely behind. The air was beginning to warm, signalling springtime. It was about time, too. Krionoso had had quite enough of the icy cold.

The canals were dismally quiet and still with the absence of travelers, but Krionoso still found it relaxing. Torches along the bridgeposts and the walls of various homes and businesses lit the way through, and the light glinted ferociously atop the murky-looking waters - the night had given the place a dirty feel, though Krionoso knew better. Within a few minutes of his brisk walking pace, Krionoso rushed through the gateway into the trade district. It looked more barren than the canals with its absence of people.

Krionoso walked to the Gilded Rose. There he would find someone who could help him with what he needed. And he was in luck; the person only worked graveyard shifts. The inn was just as quiet as the rest of the city was, with all of its inhabitants either sleeping or otherwise incapacitated inside of their rooms. The kitchen, however, continued to bristle with activity. Stepping up to the innkeeper, Krionoso said, "Can I speak with Perry?"

The innkeeper eyed him momentarily before turning back to the kitchens. Yelling in a rough and grumbling voice, the woman called the man named Perry before turning back to face Krionoso again. "He'll be a moment... What're you needing him for?"

"Oh, I need to talk to him. He left something important on the table before he left," was the reply. The innkeeper merely grunted. Apparently she didn't much believe him.

Before she could say anything to him, a young man who seemed to be in his mid-twenties appeared from the doorway into the kitchens. "Ah, Krio! So nice to visit!"

Despite the warm greeting, Krionoso knew there was less warmth between them. "May we speak in private?"

"Certainly, right this way," Perry said, brushing past both the innkeeper and the mage. At close range, Krionoso inspected the young man's garb. It was very plain; a black shirt and black pants overlaid by a stark white apron. The apron was covered by large splotches of colors, each coming from different small mishaps during his cooking. Turning around, Krionoso waved to the gruff woman and followed his old friend. The two stopped at an empty booth - the furthest one away from the door to the kitchen and the innkeeper. Perry sat with his back to her, while Krionoso had to suffer both his glares and hers. Daggers were poorly veiled behind Perry's eyes.

"What are you wanting now?" he said venomously. Apparently there was no love lost between the two since their last meeting.

"Just a small bit of information. I know you aren't part of the Defias anymore, and I'm not expecting you to turn back anytime soon. But, at the same time, I need to know what happened... and more pressing, what is everyone planning?" Krionoso asked, trying to appease Perry. It didn't quite work out as intended.

"You think after stranding me that I am willing to give you information that would cost quite a pretty penny for free? You must have gone mad. There is absolutely no way."

"Listen, I know it was wrong of me, but stranding you was the only way I was able to allow us both to escape -"

"You think I was able to escape? Those directions you gave me were _wrong_. I came to a dead end, and after the caught me and dragged me back, I was tortured for days. They nearly wrung everything from me. The only thing I was able to hold onto in order to keep from spilling it all was the thought that you'd come back for me. Of course, you never did, but that's what I had always hoped. You know why? Because we were_ friends_. Friends will at least try to rescue one another. You on the other hand kept running. You were named the leader-to-be while I was stuck wandering around trying to find my way back home. And let me tell you, wandering around Horde territory with the possibility of internal bleeding is NOT my definition of a good journey. I was lucky to be alive when I got to Dustwallow," Perry whispered, his body language still intending murder. Through his anger though, Perry's words were beginning to bring back memories.

It was almost two years since that time when he and Perry were ordered to infiltrate the Wailing Caverns. It hadn't gone well; the two were cornered in a small alcove, almost completely enveloped by the Nightmare-plagued night elves. Krionoso saw an opening and took it, leaving Perry with a small note scribbled quickly on parchment explaining what was going on. The parchment was actually a map of the caverns, given to Krionoso by Van Cleef, and the scrawled text were directions on how to exit the cave. Krionoso was long gone before he even stopped to think about what was happening to his friend. Apparently, Van Cleef wasn't expecting either to return alive. Krionoso knew it, but he took his chances by coming back anyway. After awhile, they still hadn't heard anything about or from Perry. They all thought him dead. Then, one day, a missive arrived and explained that Perry was indeed alive, but was badly injured. It said that he was getting treatment at Stormwind. It was by sheer luck that Krionoso was able to track him down. When he had come back to Stormwind with Simonee after their adventures in Westfall, he had done a small bit of reconnaisance. He gleaned that Perry had found a job in the Gilded Rose. At that point, he had left his friend alone, but made a note for later. A note that he had left alone until realizing that he had been transported back to the city.

"I know, my friend. The truth is, Van Cleef sent us both out to get killed. I knew of it then, but I couldn't tell you. We needed to maintain the semblance that we didn't know, and the easiest way to do that is if it was true. We were his two biggest lieutenants, and he was afraid that we would rise up against him. That mission was actually a threat and an assassination attempt in one package. So, when I arrived at the hideout, I was rewarded by being named the next leader, after Van Cleef. I couldn't risk going out to find you, because then he would've found something - something reeking of foul play. I got the message about you being in Stormwind, and if it hadn't been for him, I would have sought you out sooner. I'm sorry for you my friend, I truly am. But I need your help now. I need that information, because now I have too many troubles to deal with. The biggest of which being in Southshore at this very moment. So, please Perry, I need this information. Can you give it to me?"

Perry seemed to be turning the notion over in his mind. Krionoso wouldn't have been surprised if he had turned him down. It had, after all, been years since last they saw or spoke to each other - and they did not part on the best of terms. So, it most definitely had surprised him when Perry said "I'll help you. It will take a few days to acquire it, but I can get this information to you. Where will you be staying?"

"I'll be hiding around the city. I can't be seen here - the king'll have too many men on my hide. Just meet me to the east of the gate outside the city. I'll be sitting in a tree."

Perry nodded. For a few moments, silence reigned, until the innkeeper cleared her throat.

"Get back to work Perry. Your shift is not over until another hour yet," she said in her gravelly voice.

Perry shot a grin at Krionoso. "This interim keeper's a bitch," he remarked before standing and shaking his old friend's hand.

Krionoso sighed. It felt good to finally have someone on his side again.

* * *

Simonee decided that it didn't feel good to have to run everywhere all the time. After deducing that they were still on the track behind Krionoso, the guards around the medic found something extremely wrong with the situation. So they decided that they should try and apprehend these new visitors. Unfortunately for Simonee and his group, they didn't share the medic's well-meaning demeanor.

Sprinting down the solemn corridor, Simonee made it a point not to enter any more strange towers, caves, or dwellings unless he had explicit permission. This damned chasing was just too much! He and his group turned a corner and skidded to a halt. There stood yet more of the pesky, poorly clad bandits. Simonee groaned.

"Where are you all coming from?" he asked rhetorically. Growling, Simonee shot out a wave of freezing air. It barely reached the group of men, but it was just enough to cause them to hug themselves, dropping their weapons momentarily. Waving the rest of his group on, he rushed through the men with the small amount of time he was able to buy himself. Soon, with about twenty men after them, Simonee, Aeriah, Dagerly, and Garret burst from the entrance of the tower and turned southward, to Southshore. After nearly three minutes of running, Simonee looked back to check where the Syndicate soldiers were. Apparently, they had given up or had become disinterested with the chase. Finally able to slow the pace, Simonee stopped and dropped to a knee in order to catch his breath more quickly. Aeriah and Dagerly did the same, but Garret remained standing upright. Simonee was too tired to ask him why.

The afternoon was beginning to transition into nighttime. The gray clouds preceding Tirisfal were finally showing traces of color besides deep gray; purplish hues pushed forth from behind the ominous formations. The air was still, but not hot. There was a trace of cool, but the spring air was stifling every small cooling wave - remnants of the recently-passed winter - that tried pushing through. Resuming his walk, Simonee led his group to the settlement on the shore.

In order to pass some of the time, he had asked, "Where do you think they may have taken him? The knights, I mean..."

Nobody had attempted an anwer, but the silence was rather nice after facing so much commotion. When the sun finally set behind the horizon, the four had finished the trek into Southshore. The interior of the inn was just as boisterous as the night before Simonee's group left, with the mob of men trying to dance, and the music playing. There was one particularly peculiar sight at the bar, however.

Sitting in the stool closest to the far wall was a hooded figure with a small frame. She wore a maroon cloak with faint black accents running down its long sleeves. The clothing was impeccably clean, which led Simonee to believe that either she had been a resident of the place, or she had recently bought the garb. In front of her was a small mug of something, the contents being invisible through the pewter vessel. A plate was also stashed nearby, its own contents having been devastated by the fork and knife lying on top of it. She didn't quite seem interested in the revelry happening behind her, much rathering to sit quietly by herself. None of those details really mattered to Simonee. The face he caught glimpses of behind the folds of the fabric in the hood was what had him captivated. Walking briskly towards her, his own face lapsed into a smile.

"Aubs?" he asked when he reached her side. He had placed his hand gingerly on her shoulder and watched as she turned around. Indeed it had been Aubs, who herself looked pleased at seeing Simonee and his friends.

"Hey!" she called exuberantly. She stepped off the stool and gave Simonee an extremely tight hug. When they parted, she had reciprocated for each of the others before settling back in the stool.

"So, what are you doing here? I thought you wanted to settle down," Simonee said, allowing warmth and a small lilt to invade his voice.

"To be honest, I don't quite know. A voice told me to come to Dalaran, so I packed my things and headed out this morning," she replied.

"It wouldn't happen to have been an elder, female voice, would it?"

"Actually, yes. Why?"

"Well, we met her in our search. Her name is Sira Witherwinter. We can take you there tomorrow if you'd like... sorry we can't do it today, but I think I speak for all present when I say that we've had quite enough adventure for one day."

"You would? Thanks. So, what happened that you're all tired now?"

"Long story short, we found someone dragging Krionoso somewhere, and when we incestigated it, we pretty much did like always; we stuck our noses in where they probably shouldn't have been."

"Sounds like fun. I'll have to hear the full-sized version sometime soon," Aubs said. After the conversation, the five had gone to the bar and requested drinks. They at least had the sense not to order any more Flaming Whelps.

* * *

A/N: Sorry I took so long. Writer's block and all that. I'm also sorry if this proves to have a few errors. I didn't check back to previous chapters for continuity, and I didn't quite edit. Tomorrow I'll fix any mistakes and the like, but for right now, please enjoy!


	12. Chapter 11: Witherwinter

**Trial by Fire**

**Chapter Eleven: Witherwinter**

The morning sun rising high in the sky of Hillsbrad was most definitely signaling a hot day. Warm squalls were playfully rushing across the small plain leading off to Dalaran, playing a delightful game of follow the leader. Simonee, Aubs, Dagerly, Aeriah, and Garret had started the somewhat long walk before the orange sun vaulted itself above the far horizon; and when it had risen, the five travelers found themselves nearing the halfway point to their destination. In order to pass the time, Aubs had begun to describe events in her week away from traveling, not failing to mention her coworkers at the Gilded Rose. As they walked, they passed by the prowling wildlife touring the countryside. Occasionally, one or two got a bit too close, and Dagerly had put them to sleep with selective poisons when they proved to be less tame than looks had granted.

With some small measure of luck, the group arrived at Dalaran without major incident, still having plenty of time to spare before noon. Simonee led Aubs to the doorway of the priestess' domain, telling her that it was probably best that she talk with the woman alone. Simonee couldn't explain the feeling he felt that caused him to want to keep away from the house. So, with a pat on the arm, Simonee left Aubs in order to search for the rest of his group, who inexplicably had decided to go off exploring. Aubs paused briefly at the dilapidated old oak door. To her, it was almost as if she was making a mistake, meeting with Sira. She hated the uneasy feeling, but yet, there it was, a voice muttering in the back of her mind, telling her it may not pan out to seek what wisdom the woman held.

She lingered for a few seconds more, and then, forsaking the wariness that had all of a sudden built up, she rapped on the door. The same old, warm, and pleasant voice from the contact in the sanctuary called out for Aubs to enter. She did, and disappeared from Simonee's sight.

Turning from his vantage point behind one of the old buildings down the street from Sira's house, Simonee began his search for his group. He didn't understand quite what had happened to him; he originally had wanted to enter the house with Aubs and hear what information the priestess had for her, and he knew his group had as well. But for some unknown reason, all he wanted to do at close proximity to the house was get away from it. Deciding that it was probably Sira's way of telling him that he wasn't supposed to be there, Simonee started his search for his group at the town's ruined center square, and head north. His plan was to explore the city in a circular fashion, moving clockwise and keeping in between the barrier illusion and the edge of the town.

Touring the town of Dalaran was always something Simonee had meant to do, ever since his first visit when he was a child. The urge was something that had rekindled with his last visit, almost four days ago. The first time, however, he had been ushered out by something completely out of his control. Now though, was his perfect opportunity, while he waited for Aubs' meeting with Sira to convene.

The buildings looked similarly in disrepair as the ones Simonee had first encountered upon his reentry of Dalaran – back when he had solicited Sira's help for Krionoso's whereabouts. Large drooping flaps of paint hung loosely away from the wall, leaning as if its intentions were to eventually detach itself completely from the old and rotting wood. There had also been a few sparse houses that looked as if nothing had happened; most likely protected by arcane means, Simonee decided.

Other houses had crumbling pillars of granite that appeared to have no other purpose than to be something pretty to look at. Unfortunately, with many of the columns falling and shifting from their solid foundations, it served more as a reminder of the town's falling. On the east side of the town, the library took up the most space, with only a few houses still standing against the grand building's great size; the library was of vastly immense height and girth, and could easily rival the cathedral in Stormwind. A large and twisting construct extended high into the sky, mingling with puffy clouds. The spiral was one of the best known landmarks in the area, and many travelers would flock to it, many only to gawk at it in wonder. Entrances into the building had long been blocked by large chunks of debris. Simonee had only seen the interior of the library once, but he had never forgotten the beauty. The place had seemed to glow with the radiance of the sun.

Moving past the library, Simonee moved into the southern portion of the city. More houses lined empty and decimated cobblestone streets, and the view hadn't been so much different in the western quadrant. Simonee caught up with his group, who were all looking at a particularly fine house, in stark contrast to even the untouched houses located in the northern sector of the city.

It was a well-build house that looked much like it could have been occupied by one of the nobles of Stormwind. It was completely white, with the paint covering it intact and with no discolorations marring it. The wood had somehow maintained its health, staving off the customary rot that had invaded the rest of the town. It looked as though it had been built early on in Dalaran's existence, with many small details alluding to that conclusion; including ornate plaster carvings on the exterior walls. Columns much like the ones crumbling elsewhere stood proudly here, holding up an overhang that had spread over a small porch. The windows were a pristine clear, without scratches or imperfections ruining its surface, but nothing but a deep black could be seen through them. The door leading into the house appeared to be very strong indeed, impervious to any attempts at a break-in. The house itself was two-floors tall, with an added attic where the apex of the roof lied. It was very stable, not leaning and not sinking into itself, signaling an intact foundation. Whoever lived in the house was either extremely rich or extremely proficient in the schools of magic.

Simonee didn't have to wonder why his friends stood and stared at it. The whole house had seemed as if nothing had truly happened to Dalaran. Before either Simonee or the rest of the group could even think about entering the house, Aubs reappeared, looking both tired and worried.

She tiredly rubbed her eyes. "Well, that meeting revealed much. Certainly answered a few of my questions," she stated

"What do you mean?" Simonee asked, finally coming out of his trance of staring down the beautiful house.

"Well… it seems as though Sira's my mother," Aubs said.

This earned a few looks from Dagerly and Aeriah, but neither said a thing.

"But that's not exactly what I was talking about. Believe it or not, Krionoso's my brother."

* * *

Krionoso sat in the tree as he had told Perry he would, waiting silently and enjoying the morning breeze. It was a serene day in Elwynn Forest, with no wailing tempests tossing the trees this way and that, and no rain pouring from the sky. The sun was mildly beating down on the verdant green, but it wasn't hot. Quite simply put, it was a beautiful day.

"_Ah, so I see you haven't completely ruined yourself yet!" _the priestess Sira chirped inside his head.

"What are you still contacting me for?" Krionoso inquired rather impatiently.

"_Well, as you were my patient, it is only regular for a physician to want to check up on their charge," _came the strangely delightful reply.

"Okay, well then I'll ask another question: why are you so happy?"

"_We shall save that discussion for a later time. Has your chest given you problems lately?"_

"There was a prolonged episode two days ago, but other than that, it's been behaving."

"_Hmm," _Sira grunted. _"It seems as though your recuperation will not be smooth. That is, unless you come back to Dalaran so I can fix you up again."_

Krionoso sighed. It would be invaluable to have his full health back, but it seemed rather dangerous to return to Dalaran. But, no matter how much he thought about it, the benefits outweighed the risks. He finally conceded, "Okay, I'll come back. But I need to spend some more time where I am. I have rather important business."

"_Take your time,"_ Sira said, and Krionoso could feel as her presence lifted from his mind.

"Having a fine morning conversation with your tree?" asked a voice from below. When Krionoso looked, Perry stood with his hands behind his back and wore a satisfied smirk.

"Of course; I was thanking it for providing me refuge," Krionoso replied sarcastically.

"I never knew you were a shaman," Perry shot back, readying himself to climb the tree.

Krionoso chuckled, resting his head against the trunk of the tree. It was a monstrously large thing, with its trunk nearing eight feet around, and branches almost the size of Krionoso's midsection. Climbing it was very much like rock climbing, trying to find handholds and footholds while simultaneously looking upward at the goal. Somehow, Perry managed it within moments, perching himself a branch above his friend.

"Frickin' rogues," Krionoso muttered. It had taken him about an hour to try and find a way up here, and another ten minutes to actually do it. And here was a guy who did it in seconds! Show off. "So, what's going on?"

"Well, I consulted with some of my contacts, and here's what I got: the king sent the majority of his forces to help rebuild Goldshire, though he did send off a small group of four or five off to capture or kill you. From what I hear, the charges are treason, holding a high official as a captive, and murder. You must have done quite a bit in my absence. The king's not letting you go, not even for a moment."

Krionoso regained his good humor. "Well, I suppose he would maintain a grudge after I kidnapped him."

"You did _what_?" Perry hissed. Apparently it was all he could do to keep his voice to a minimum.

Beginning to laugh again, Krionoso repeated, "I kidnapped the king! He was sailing to Theramore for one reason or another, and I followed and captured him!"

"I suppose that explains his disappearance," Perry said, deep in thought.

"Indeed."

Silence reigned for a few moments while Perry ordered his thoughts, and Krionoso sat in self-satisfaction. Of course, his kidnapping of the king had earned him the debilitating injury, but it had been fun while it lasted. Finally he broke the silence by asking, "What else is going on?"

Momentarily startled, Perry replied, "Your Defias forces are starting to scatter. It seems to me as though they lost a large chunk of morale after losing here. Those who've been captured by the guard keep saying something about a mage. Apparently, the one following you has earned quite a reputation."

That sounded like Simonee, alright; always upholding the right and virtuous. Krionoso scowled briefly. His band of brothers was beginning to unravel. A horrible sense of despair flowed through him; he had worked hard to ensure the Brotherhood wouldn't fall after Van Cleef's death. And yet, here it was beginning to happen, out of his control.

"It's not your fault. It may have happened sooner or later anyway," Perry said. It was almost as if he was able to read Krionoso's mind. "That's all I could get in this short amount of time. I hope it helps you out a bit. For now, I'm going to bed. I've been awake all day since your visit last night."

"Thanks, Perry. I owe you one."

"The way I see it, you owe me about three, but it was my pleasure," Perry said, allowing a smirk to invade his features.

"Wait a minute… where'd the third one come in?" Krionoso asked, puzzled. He already knew about the Wailing Caverns and this, but the third favor escaped him.

"Remember when you pulled that prank on Van Cleef, and I managed to keep you from being pulverized by Mr. Smite? That's the one."

"Ah. Thank you." Indeed Krionoso remembered the incident.

Perry dropped from branch to branch, scaling down the tree almost as quickly down as he had going up. When he reached the bottom, he walked briskly to the gates and reentered the city. Krionoso watched him before starting to make his own way down. It was difficult, and in various moments, he was pained by his chest having an impromptu spasm. When the long process was through, Krionoso followed Perry's path into the city. He needed a gryphon so that he could get to Dalaran.

* * *

"WHAT!?" Simonee asked incredulously.

"That's what Sira said. He's my brother."

The revelation was more than just a small shock to Simonee's system. It was a true wonder that Aubs herself had been taking it so well. Each member except her had been dumbfounded. It was simply inconceivable that a traitor like Krionoso could be related to someone so loyal as Aubs.

"The best thing about it all is that Sira's agreed to set up an ambush. She's already contacted Krionoso and he's on his way," Aubs said, nonchallant.

"Wait... she's _allowing_ us to kill her son?" Simonee asked. "And you are too, now that you've found out that he is your brother?"

Aubs looked down, locking eyes on a small pebble beneath her. "It wouldn't matter if I didn't know. It's all the same; I won't allow my new-found connection to unravel our mission. He's still my enemy, and if we're to have success in our mission, we need him out of the picture."

It was quite plain to see that she was conflicted, not believing in what she was saying. Letting the matter go, Simonee turned to look at the house.

"So what are we going to do now?" Aeriah asked, looking around at his fellows.

Simonee glanced at the night elf and began to grin. "Wait right here; I'll be back in a minute or so."

The group did as told and sat still, looking perplexed at their leader's behavior. Simonee strode away confidently. He had something in mind, and it could possibly answer a question or two. Moving quickly, he arrived at Sira's house again within a few moments. He knocked twice and listened; as if she was expecting him - and she probably was - she called quietly, "Come in, young sir."

As he entered the house, Simonee noticed that it was remarkably cleaner and more brightly lit. Dust no longer covered the floor or furniture, and some of the woodworks were even stained, laquered, and polished. Candleholders bracketed to the walls held lit candles, most of which standing tall.

Walking to the kitchen table, Simonee remarked, "You've done quite a lot during the past week, ma'am. It looks great."

Sira chuckled, apparently happy that someone noticed. "Indeed. So, what brings you back to my humble abode?" she asked, still smiling delightfully.

"I have a couple of questions that you may be able to help me with."

"Is that so?" the priestess asked knowingly.

Simonee grinned to match Sira's and replied, "Yes, ma'am. I suppose I'll start off with one of my least important questions. Was that you that kept making me want to turn away from your house when I brought Aubs?"

"Yes, it was. I'm sure you can appreciate my need for secrecy. Although I'm sure by now that Aubrey has informed you of some rather unfortunate and untimely news; which I will wait to explain for the right time," Sira replied with a wink.

"Okay, so my second question is; why is that one house on the west side of the town perfectly fine?" Simonee asked.

"Ah... that is a house of some distinction, prior to the Scourge. You see, it once belonged to none other than Jaina Proudmoore. I trust you've seen the monument in the town square?"

Simonee did remember it. Its inscription hinted that Jaina had donated it - "And you would be right assuming that." - though some of it had been blocked by years' worth of dirt and grime. The part of the inscription that was free of the dirt was very special, though.

"She allocated some of her power in that stone, but for the life of me, I can't figure it out. What it does, why she did it, all of it is a mystery to all of us still living here. Anyway, she donated the monument after needing to move on to Theramore. She was the last person of importance to come visit us before the Scourge attacked. That house of hers is one of the only buildings that age hasn't taken. And it won't take it for as long as Dalaran still stands and she still lives."

Simonee allowed for silence to settle in momentarily before beginning his next question. "Okay, I know you've seen this question coming, but I must know. If you're Krionoso's mother, then why are you allowing for his death?"

Sira sighed, preparing mentally for her answer. "He is more powerful than either of you know. I fear that if he should find this dormant power, he would use it for evil and treachery. That is all you need to know right now. The rest will come in due time. If that is all the questioning you have for me, I have tea brewing that needs attending to."

Simonee wondered what Krionoso's power could do, but left the problem alone. He would have to be patient. Bowing toward old priestess, he said, "Thank you, ma'am."

Sira returned his gesture, more flexible than her old figure led on. "Not a problem, young man. Remember, you are welcome to stay in my home while you are here in Dalaran. Besides, I don't want or need you to miss your prime opportunity."

Thanking Sira once again, Simonee turned and exited the building. What was once promising to be a beautiful, clear day was quickly becoming soured by a multitude of clouds creeping toward the sun. It oddly matched how Simonee was feeling at that moment.

* * *

As Simonee's meeting with Sira lengthened, Aeriah began to lose patience. He had wanted nothing more than to explore this wonderful house in front of him. It didn't take another fifteen minutes before the last dregs of restraint left him. He began to slowly make his way to the front door of the house.

"What are you doing?" Aubs asked in a whisper.

Aeriah didn't stop, instead he kept moving forward, ever so slowly; in case there was someone inside.

"What are you doing?" The voice sounded deeper, and quite manlier.

Still hunched over, Aeriah wheeled around on his heel and caught sight of Simonee, who had stealthily returned to the group while he was intent on reaching the front porch of the house. Aeriah yelped slightly while Simonee laughed.

"Apparently, this house belongs to Jaina Proudmoore. I wouldn't suggest entering it; it's probably got wards-a-plenty to stave off intruders," Simonee said.

The group collectively groaned, showing that they had mirrored Aeriah's ambition. The only difference being that they were able to restrain themselves.

With the possibility of entering and exploring the house out of the question, the five ambled around, lost. Before long, however, thunder began to rumble and lightning flashed across the sky, hidden somewhere behind the ample mass of gray clouds. Not staying long enough to watch the display of nature, Simonee ushered the group once again to Sira's house. They had barely made it before the torrents of rain began to fall.

* * *

Krionoso drifted peacefully in the air atop a gryphon headed for Southshore. The sky grew increasingly menacing, and by the time he landed, the rain began to rush to the ground in sheets. In order to escape the sudden onslaught of water, he ran toward the armory. It wasn't exactly his first choice, but being that the inn was inhospitable to him now, it was one of the only choices available.

Upon entrance into the building, Krionoso noticed that the place was rather empty and devoid of life, save for one single metalworker. It was a warm building, a trait much attributable to the large, glowing furnace in the center of it. It was also quite bright, though he suspected that it was something a bit more than only the furnace that created the light.

The room he was in was large and square, though most of the space in the room had been taken up by the furnace and a plentitude of anvils lying everywhere. The metalworker seemed not to notice Krionoso, rather wrapped up in his work - smashing a molten plate of steel with a large metal hammer. The sight of the hammer brought sharp tingles to Krionoso's chest, but he managed to get past them, moving closer to the armorer. When he was almost an arm's length away, he tried to strike up a conversation.

"I hope you don't mind my staying here for a while. It's a little wet out there," Krionoso said, gesturing out the door.

"Are ye payin'?" the gruff metalworker asked.

"Excuse me?" Krionoso asked, flabbergasted.

"Are ye payin'? Do ye need somethin' fixed, or are ye just wantin' to sit here and gab with me? I'm busy, and I need to get back to mah work. So, are ye payin'?"

Fishing in his pocket, Krionoso forked over a few silver pieces, asking, "Can you make me a blade? I'm in need of a better weapon than this stave on my back."

Finally, the armorer turned around. He was burly, to say the least. He was of above-average height, and had a slender, but dangerously muscular build. The man wore an old off-white shirt, stained black by soot and minerals used for his trade, and dirty brown pants, with the same black stains running down the thigh in the shape of a hand - apparently where he wiped his hands off after getting them dirty. He looked Krionoso up and down, trying to size him up.

"I can. And ye can stay in the armory fer now. When yer sword's ready, I'll have to ask ye to leave."

"Not a problem, sir." It was better than walking out in the cold rain. Handing the armorer the coins, Krionoso turned and walked to a small workbench resting near the furnace. The glowing coals radiated a dry heat, which felt infinitely better than what it had outside.

So, there Krionoso sat, watching the armorer set to work on his new sword. The metalworker was skilled indeed, and it wasn't long before Krionoso was handed his new sword. It was definitely beautiful. It was made of a flexible steel, though not quite too flexible - it was reinforced with a bronze center to keep it from snapping or bending too far - and the armorer had even gone the extra length to detail the blade with a swirling shape, carved from the steel by a small, blunt instrument. Krionoso had seen the detailing before; it was on the tauren's broadsword - the one he had killed not a week-and-a-half ago. Deciding to let the small fact go, Krionoso accepted the sword, admiring the expertly-measured weight placed in the pommel. The handle felt comfortable in his hand, maintaining its straight quality while still looking very beautiful at the same time. The hilt was in the shape of a flame, and Krionoso wondered if the man was just as much a mindreader as Sira had proved to be. Happy with the blade, Krionoso bid the metalworker thanks and farewell, walking happily to the door of the armory and noticing the weather had indeed cleared up in his time in the building.

"Make sure ye see a leatherworker about a scabbard for that thing. If you don't, the elements'll tear the metal apart," were the armorer's parting words.

Krionoso nodded and left the armory, swinging the sword with practiced flair. He would heed the man's advice. He wanted to keep this blade keen. Leaving Southshore once more, Krionoso turned to the northwest and began his trip to Dalaran. It was time to fix his chest once and for all.

* * *

A/N: Well, my review crew's gone missing again, but oh well. I hope you've enjoyed the past two chapters, and once again, I have found myself over the four-thousand threshold for this one! Thanks for reading (if you have indeed read), and I shall see you in a week!


	13. Chapter 12: Circumstances

Review Replies (Finally!):

Scion: Yes, I am pulling ahead, but that's because you refuse to write and update and let me revel in your story! Anyway, I figured you'd like the blade. I needed some filler to end the chapter on a good note, and well, there it is.

**Trial by Fire**

**Chapter Twelve: Circumstances**

As Simonee navigated Sira's house, waiting for Krionoso to arrive, he found that it hadn't exactly been an isolated incident of cleaning in the dining room; rather, all throughout the house, the dust had been diligently lifted from surfaces that were once, not long ago, buried underneath inches of the stuff. The interior's new appearance completely defied what the exterior told would-be visitors. Simonee believed that the house may have even been charming – without the lean and the chipping and peeling paint.

In his small meandering tour of the house, Simonee had found what had looked to be a workshop, complete with an assortment of tools. A few pieces of furniture – most of them old and falling apart – had been lined up alongside a long table that held up bottles of wood finishing chemicals and a large and rusty iron canister – the contents of which quickly guessed at by Simonee as being the stain that Sira had used on the chairs in the dining room. Brushes were placed on nails bashed crookedly into the wall behind the table, dirty and mostly stiff from lack of cleaning. Simonee left the room alone, opting to search more rather than linger in the small room.

Other than the workshop, Simonee found nothing truly of interest to him within the priestess' home. So, without anything else to do, he found his friends and joined them in a game of poker to pass the time. To his delighted surprise, the game was actually rather enjoyable despite the lack of mass quantities of liquor involved. Hours passed this way until Sira interrupted the fun with much anticipated news.

"_He has arrived. Remember, stay hidden until I tell you, or the plan will not work,"_ she said telepathically. The time was finally here; soon Krionoso would be within Simonee's grasp, and justice could finally be served. Simonee could almost feel the relief already.

Sira had detailed the plan they were to use when Simonee had led his four friends into the house to escape what had turned out to be a lackluster amount of rain. She would channel some of her power into one of the house's restroom vanity mirrors so that the group could watch through her eyes as she feigned to heal Krionoso. Then she would lead him to a room to recuperate, while Simonee waited for him to fall unconscious – a result of Sira's true intentions to sedate him. Then, and only then, Simonee would send Dagerly to do the deed. Having the rogue do it would greatly increase the chances of success.

Running to the mirror they had settled on, Simonee stopped and stared into the polished glass. Seeing only his reflection in it, he wondered if Sira had gone back on her word. Aubs, Aeriah, Dagerly and Garret arrived soon after to the same sight of their reflections. Moments passed, and for one of the first times in Simonee's life, he began to panic. Not only was he completely relying on the plan to succeed, he was hoping beyond hope that he wouldn't have to face Krionoso again, after Sira's revelation; not to mention that Krionoso would be extremely desperate to escape, and would most likely do anything to achieve just that.

More long seconds passed before something happened. In the top right corner of the gaping mirror – in a small area at first, and then spreading to encompass the entire thing – a phantasmagoric array of colors began to swirl and sway before finally resolving into a crystal clear image of Krionoso sitting at the dining room table.

Simonee watched as Krionoso stood in silence and walked to a low table, set up beside the wall leading to the staircase. The priestess remained sitting, and Simonee guessed that she had told him to prepare himself while she had done the same – her preparation including that of the mirror. Sira stood after a few seconds, placing herself directly next to the table on top of which Krionoso lay. She paused again momentarily, sharply turning her view outside of a window. Simonee was barely able to make out a shady shape, and a worry once again built up in his gut. She then turned back to Krionoso, beginning to work her magic on him. Golden strands of Light played around her hands, occasionally making contact with Krionoso's exposed chest.

"_Something is wrong,"_ Sira stated in Simonee's mind. _"Our plan is destined to fail."_

The words made Simonee's heart drop in his chest and his stomach clench.

"_Do not speak. Only listen,"_ she continued. _"I'm healing him; the Syndicate are within the illusion and are actively searching for my son. They are in far too great a number for you and your group alone. I surmise that they had sent a spy to watch his activities, and he has led them here. You must come out of hiding, I'm too old to keep up this amount of spellweaving, and I need all I can get in order to put Krionoso back together, so I'm deactivating the mirror. Make yourself known and I will take care of the rest."_

Although Simonee hated it at the moment, he trusted Sira's judgment. Relaying the news to the group – and receiving a collection of gripes and groans – Simonee moved out of the restroom and slowly made his way down the stairs, preparing himself for the amount of restraint he would need for his confrontation with Krionoso.

Simonee reached the bottom step and walked into the dining room. To his left was Sira and Krionoso, who had somehow failed to notice him. Affording himself a heaving sigh to try and force the nervousness away, he continued walking straight to the table, only halting once he was standing next to the priestess.

When Krionoso caught sight of Simonee, he tried to scramble to a sitting position, only to be balked by his chest and returned to his back by a gentle push from Sira.

"What is the meaning of this?" he growled, enraged.

"Would you calm down before you absolutely kill any chance I have of fixing your chest?" Sira asked in an equally dangerous tone. Krionoso seemed to calm slightly, though Simonee doubted that he was releasing the tension in his muscles.

"That's what I thought. Now, hear me out while I heal you. Yes… the original plan that we had in mind was to kill you; _but_, some unfortunate circumstances have forced our hand." She paused again as the rest of Simonee's group arrived beside the table, each glaring at the one occupying it.

"A pleasant greeting to you as well. Are you enjoying the show?" Krionoso remarked at their reactions, his voice not hiding the sarcasm behind his words.

"Enough. A question I have for you: have you had any recent dealings with the Syndicate?" Sira asked.

"Yes, briefly." Krionoso scowled, remembering the attempt on his life.

"Well, then, you must be absolutely pleased to know that they are practically knocking at our door."

Simonee swore and walked to the window, looking outside. Krionoso swore as well, but unable to stand, the effect was lost. Sira continued to heal him, and before long, he was rushing to replace his robes and weapons.

When he was finished, he remarked to Simonee, "Glad to see you're not killing me yet."

Simonee turned to face Krionoso and said, "Yeah, well the Syndicate probably won't provide the same favor. After all, it is your fault that they're here."

"That is quite enough!" Sira shouted. Silence dominated the room before she began again. "Now, I'm probably not going to be of any assistance to you in combat out there; besides, I'm far too old to be running around town. So, instead, I will remain here, and track them while you dispose of them. I will relay what I find to whoever is closest. Now go, we must finish this before sundown.

Walking to the front door, Krionoso turned to Simonee again. "Listen… truce?" I have a feeling that neither of us are going to feel like fighting each other after this, and this way, we both have a good three days to prepare."

He held his hand out, and Simonee briefly looked at it. Grunting, he accepted the offer, for better or worse. Shaking his enemy's hand, Simonee couldn't help but feel that he was making a mistake. Krionoso felt instantly relieved. With that out of the way, Krionoso opened the door and led everyone outside.

The town didn't look any different, but the feeling was definitely more urgent and dangerous. The Syndicate was searching for Krionoso, but they had apparently done a very good job at hiding while doing it. Slowly, the six moved away from each other, splitting up to hasten the search-and-destroy.

Staying low to the ground as he walked, Krionoso steadily made his way into the heart of the town. The buildings were close together, and it seemed smaller than it actually was. Krionoso felt as if he had the advantage in his hometown's streets, and confidence was flowing through him freely.

"_There is one traveling down the road to your right."_

The road Sira mentioned was one of the oldest – and subsequently less-maintained – in town, and the houses and buildings lining it reflected as much. After the priestess pointed out which road the invader took, it wasn't hard to find the man; he stood in the center of the cobblestone street, looking into windows and alleyways for indications of where he would find something. Krionoso knew almost immediately that he was an amateur on the job. What better a way to begin?

Still keeping himself low, he jogged down the deteriorated road, only stopping to dive behind the cover of a stray cart as the man he was stalking turned to check his flank. He apparently saw nothing, and as such, turned back around just as quickly as before, allowing Krionoso to get up again and continue down the path. As soon as he came into suitable striking distance, he silently unsheathed his new blade and slashed at his foe's unprotected neck.

Somehow, the man was able to dodge the steel just in time. In the same motion, he turned and took his own sword in hand. Krionoso was forced to withdraw his first impression of the man, realizing now that he was indeed a master of swordplay. The two circled each other, eyeing their counterparts and sizing each other up.

Krionoso's opponent made the first move, breaking the circle and running straight down the center towards the mage. He shouted and attempted to slice diagonally up from the hip. Krionoso sidestepped to his right and brought his sword down to meet the man's.

The distance between blades closed rapidly, and the two made contact with a reverberating _clink_. They pulled away equally as quickly, and both had ended up where they had originally been; directly in front of their wielders, facing the opponent. In a blur of motion, the man from the Syndicate tried to strike again, this time coming horizontally at Krionoso. The mage allowed his reflexes to act, and the blades met again. As the two blades separated again, Krionoso frowned. He was already becoming tired, and the fight was only two strikes in! And, to make matters worse, the man was able to move too quickly for an opening to prop up, and he could strike within an instant, leaving no room for a cast, no matter how quickly it happened. The best course of action, Krionoso decided, was to try and keep up with his sword in hopes that the man would soon present an opening that he would be able to exploit.

The man's blade once again traced an arc through the air and Krionoso reacted accordingly, moving just quickly enough to avoid having a nice gash to show off back at Sira's house. His opponent was definitely more skilled than Krionoso had first thought; more skilled than he was, at the very least. Absolutely no opening existed between the time the man tried to cut Krionoso and the point where his sword returned to the ready.

Krionoso came up with a haphazard plan, and acting as swiftly as the thoughts entered his mind, he set off on a flurry of strikes, moving through every combination he was ever taught in quick succession. Of course, every strike was blocked expertly, but that wasn't the point; if he could time it right, he would be in a perfect position to at least injure the man. Almost as quickly as it began, Krionoso's compound combination ended.

Just as the man brought his sword up to counterattack, Krionoso saw his chance. Slashing across his opponent's midsection, the blade went unimpeded through flesh and muscle. Allowing himself a sigh of relief as the man fell backward, Krionoso moved slowly toward the poor fellow from the Syndicate, and spared him some pain by finishing him off.

Before moving on, he cleaned his blade with a spare piece of cloth from his pack, and returned it to its sheath, resolving to stick with his magic for the next encounter.

* * *

Aubs was unsure of how to proceed. She had little knowledge about Dalaran, and even less about the Syndicate. In this, she was placing a large heap of trust on her recently-uncovered mother to keep her at least somewhat safe.

"_Don't worry, I won't let you down. But, there's a group of three ahead of you, waiting behind the corner two intersections down."_

With the knowledge of at least where her enemies were hiding in wait of her, Aubs felt at least a little better; that is, until she realized exactly what Sira had said. Three people, not one, were waiting for her. Dismissing her unease temporarily, she walked forward carefully.

When Aubs reached the designated corner, she peeked around it and found that her mother was indeed correct, and there stood three similarly-dressed men standing behind it; two had hands resting on their blades, while the third held his behind his back. Letting loose an almost-relaxing sigh, Aubs readied herself.

She stepped from behind the corner and stared down the three men before her. The two with swords looked relieved upon realizing that their charge was an unarmed woman. The third simply stared into her eyes intently. Fear gripped at the edges of her perception slowly at first, as she continued to glare at the man. She tried her hardest to rip her stare from him, but as she finally managed it, the fright had grown to bigger proportions.

Finally, the spell took full effect, forcing Aubs' legs to run uncontrollably away from the trio. Fear completely dominated her mind, as images of unimaginable horrors played across her vision. If her conscious mind hadn't been so overtaken by the irrational fear, Aubs would have thought, _'Damn. A warlock.'_

Eventually, the spell wore off, and when Aubs regained her senses, she had absolutely no clue where she was. A sharp tingling in the back of her neck alerted her to a presence there, and she had barely enough time to roll out of the way as a large blade came sweeping down at her. She threw an arm behind her, releasing the fire blast she had been unwittingly conjuring. She heard a scream and the sound of a body dropping, but couldn't quite stop to congratulate herself; someone was running behind her again with murderous intent.

Turning around, Aubs lifter her hands in the air and muttered an incantation. Large icicles dropped from the heavens, randomly falling and shattering on the ground. All she needed was for one to be aimed correctly, and then she could set her sights on the warlock.

Unfortunately, the spread of icicles falling was simply too wide, and each missed her target. Thinking quickly, she froze the ground beneath her assailant's feet, afterward beginning a cast. The man slipped as planned, and Aubs was able to finish the cast, sending a frostbolt on its way. It made impact, and the man was stilled.

'_Now, for that warlock…'_ she thought. Almost instantly after she held that thought, a ball of shadow whizzed past her head, missing by a narrow margin.

She turned around to see the warlock. He was smiling wickedly, nearly able to match the grimace of the imp beside him. Not long after she took notice of them, Aubs was forced to dodge alternating spells of shadow and fire, her patience swiftly leaving her in increments that increased with each spell. Between both warlock and minion, she wasn't able to channel anything close to helpful, save for one.

After the imp missed with yet another fireball, Aubs began to stand still. Forming a double-thick arcane barrier around herself, she allowed the next shadow bolt to hit her. When she was satisfied with how well the shield held up, she began to form a spell of her own. Seeing the new danger in the situation, the warlock recalled his imp and began to summon a new demon. A felguard appeared in what had to have been record time. The demon eyed her dangerously, and she started to work in double-time.

The felguard charged at her with his axe at the ready, and at the same time, Aubs released her spell. The warlock ordered the demon back to him as a large shard of arcane power shot forth, much larger than any normal missile would have been. It was aimed directly at the warlock, who wouldn't be able to move out of the way in time.

As the spell raced across the meager amount of space between Aubs to her target, the demon started to sprint full-speed to intercept it. By the time both the spell and the felguard reached the necromancer, Aubs couldn't tell which had gotten there first. It was even less possible to tell as the spell erupted into a massive cloud of smoke, obscuring everything from sight. Seconds passed, and still the smoke hadn't cleared enough for Aubs to tell. She debated whether or not she should enter the cloud, deciding against it as a figure began to emerge from the gray smog.

Aubs groaned. The warlock had survived. Luckily, however, the demon did not, meaning that it would be a while before he could summon another one. He was absolutely vulnerable, and seeing this, Aubs flicked her wrist at him, causing him to burst aflame. He was dead shortly thereafter. Sighing, she felt happy to be rid of the warlock. At the same time, she ambled in a random direction, not quite caring where she ended up within the town.

'_Let's see what else I can get myself into today,'_ she thought cynically.

* * *

Dagerly decided that he should probably have been used to this by now. After all, it was his job to sneak around and kill people. But, for some reason, this felt different… more necessary or something like that. Dagerly couldn't put his finger on the problem, but he was betting that the odds were likely that it had something to do with being expected to perform this time.

Setting the thought aside for later consideration, he continued stalking around the streets of Dalaran, simply waiting for Sira to contact him with any news; most preferably that of a poor soul's proximity. As it turned out, he wasn't left to wait long.

"_There's an alley nearby and to your right side. Take it; your target is there."_

Sighing, Dagerly cleared his mind and allowed himself to coalesce with the shadows cast by the late afternoon sun. Satisfactorily hidden, he pulled out two of his favorite vials; a clear blue one containing a paralyzing elixir, and an ornate red one, full of a powerful pain poison.

He applied a poison to both of his daggers, making sure to put enough on to last for the quite possible advent of a lengthy fight. He was fortunate enough to have had an opponent who had lost himself down a relatively dark alleyway. Continuing into the mouth of the small path, he made sure that nobody could've taken a perch above him, hanging on to one of the many windows up there.

Soon, however, the alley became too dark to see much of anything, and Dagerly saw this as a double-edged sword. On one hand, nobody could see him unless they were in front of him, but conversely, he was completely visible had they been there. Relying heavily on instinct, Dagerly continued his way down the corridor. As it turned out, it came to a dead end quite at least fifty yards in from the entrance, and from what Dagerly gathered from his investigations, there was no other ways in or out other than that. A perfect place to plan an ambush.

No sooner had he thought it before something rather heavy was pushed to block the exit, and the light entering through it. It was much too far to reach even if at full sprint, and seeing this, Dagerly simply stood, waiting and preserving the likely-needed energy. It didn't take long before his ambushers made themselves known, vaulting over the dead end wall and into the alley, landing somewhere in the midst of the pitch black.

Thinking quickly, he attempted to get Sira's attention. _'Sira, I may need some help here…'_

He wasn't sure whether or not the woman could hear him, or if she would acknowledge him, but with no other options available to him, he trusted her. In the meantime, one of his attackers began to speak.

"Ah… now you're in our grasp. Sorry, pal, no escape for you this time," he said.

Dagerly fought back the urge to respond. Not only were these people mistaken about their prey, they were also very foolish and arrogant. Tracking where the voice had come from was easy indeed, and he judged that the man who spoke was about two feet away. The rest he wasn't sure of, but this one, he was.

Dagerly struck out with his left-hand dagger, and the man screamed in excruciating pain. Moving quickly with a certain deadly skill, the rogue then brought he right-hand dagger across the man's throat. His aim was true, and the dead body dropped to the ground.

'_Now to wait.'_

Surely enough, one of his foe's comrades was both curious and afraid enough to be careless.

"What's going on?" the voice said.

'_Bingo.'_

A good yard toward the exit of the alleyway was where the second man lay in waiting. Dagerly had to work in order to stifle a small chuckle. It was amusingly ironic how the plan that the three had come up with was suddenly beginning to backfire on them. Sprinting swiftly yet quietly, as was his trade, he came to where he traced the voice and slashed low to the ground with the dagger on his right.

"I… can't… move!" the man struggled to say, after finding himself as such. Dagerly doubted that the man had even felt the cut across his ankle. Soon, the man was reduced to frightened mumblings, and feeling what had to have been a small case of pity for the fool, Dagerly decided to end the man's pathetic misery. Unfortunately, the last man hadn't made his presence known, even with both of his teammates dead. Obviously, he was better-versed in the ways of stealth than his brethren in the Syndicate had been. This would be fun, Dagerly knew. He even allowed himself a smile.

"_You needed something?"_ Sira asked, creeping into his mind as if cued to do so.

'_Yes, but hold on. I want to see something first,' _Dagerly replied in thought.

"_You know, I can tell you exactly where he is."_

'_I know.'_

"_Don't let pride be your fall. Call on me if you find yourself in trouble."_

'_Will do.'_

With that, Sira's presence in his mind diminished, but remained there, if only ever-so-slightly. She wasn't about to allow him to die of foolishness. He knew she was watching, and didn't quite want it any other way. Keeping that in mind, Dagerly proceeded. First, he would need to do something to gain his opponent's attention. Then he would need to make the man slip up and reveal himself. After that would come the kill.

First things first, he started to search for something of suitable size close by that he could throw. He started to kneel slowly, sweeping the ground with his hand to check.

Small pebbles were in abundance littering the ground, but nothing larger than his thumbnail could be found. Deciding that the pebbles would have to do, he grasped a handful of them and separated them into two groups. Timing would need to be precise, but Dagerly was confident. He threw the first batch at the wall, and lobbed the second where he was sure the man wasn't. The first group _clacked_ against the stone wall, and the others came just in time afterwards. If all went well, then the illusion would be that Dagerly was in two places at the same time. But, if the man was half as good as he thought he was, it probably wouldn't work.

Of course, he was surprised to find that the man had made a poor attempt at stifling a gasp. Finally, Dagerly was able to figure out where to strike! The gasp came from a few paces to his right, and being so close, Dagerly decided to show off a bit. He reached for the pouch with his throwing daggers and extracted one. He knew that Sira wouldn't approve of his next course of action, but then again, he was the one out here, not she.

He briefly weighed the dagger in his hand and in a swift motion, tossed the dagger quickly into the darkness where he believed his foe to be. There was a sheathing sound, but nothing afterward. No _thud_, no sigh, no nothing. Something was wrong.

Dagerly's reflexes flared and he jumped back just in time to avoid a dagger being swung downward at him. He'd been had! The man was apparently every bit as intelligent as Dagerly thought at first instinct. Realizing his folly, he called on Sira again.

'_Any help would be appreciated.'_

"_I thought it might."_

As if the sun had flickered into existence right in the alley, Dagerly was finally able to see clearly, and it was just in time as his foe began to make another attack. Rearming himself with his poisoned daggers, Dagerly counterattacked with a quick slash to his counterpart's exposed legs. The slice scored, causing the man to lose control of his limbs. The man had been moving forward at the time Dagerly cut him, and unable to break his inertia, he collapsed to his front.

Smiling at his handiwork, Dagerly found that the man's paralyzed form provided an excellent source of the _thud_ he had been looking for. Without much delay, the rogue made the final slice, and his opponent went completely limp. Now he had to try and get out of the alleyway.

He was too preoccupied with his prior predicament to notice that the blockage at the end of the lane was just taller than he was. Dagerly made his way to the object and felt it for a handhold. What he found was an almost completely smooth surface. He grunted. He had always loathed dulling the blades on his daggers, but seeing the necessity in his situation, Dagerly took a sharp stab at the stone-like object, and started scaling it.

Once he was atop the object, he checked to make sure that he wouldn't be ambushed again on exit. Finding nothing, he hopped down from his perch and resumed searching for more of the Syndicate invaders.

* * *

Aeriah wasn't quite sure what in the Nether he was doing, walking around Dalaran while waiting for some old priestess to tell him where some people were simply waiting to kill him. It certainly wasn't his idea of fun, nor his favorite position to be placed in; but, finding himself in it more and more often lately had begun to make him look forward to the situations, and the scenery in Dalaran was breathtaking, even if a little dilapidated.

"_You'll find a group of five or six in the town square. I trust you know where to find it?"_

'_Indeed.'_

Aeriah doubled back on the road he was following and took the first right he came to. The town square was one of the least building-populated areas in Dalaran, and it wouldn't be his first choice for an ambush. The place was wide open and only a stone pedestal offered any cover for yards around.

When he arrived at the square, he noticed that five people were standing around, examining whichever building they were closest to. Sighing, Aeriah couldn't help but think, _'Why couldn't Dagerly take this one? They're perfectly spread out! He could drop each one before anyone knew a thing about it!'_

That train of thought brought him to a realization. Setting his unnecessary disgruntlement aside, he cleared his mind and prepared his body for what he had in mind. He hated this next part the most, but it was certainly useful for certain items on his agenda. The first thing that occurred was a slight tingle, which soon erupted into full-blown pain. Bones cracked underneath growing pressure and Aeriah stifled his body's want for screaming. As a young druid, he was taught how to withstand the pain to the point where he could maintain silence while he transformed. It was certainly coming in handy now, as his bones tried to protest the rapid shrinking of his form.

Muscles became more tightly wrapped around him and bones cracked and shrunk to fit his new smaller body. At least the transformation spell included a nice healing touch at the end of the process. With the change complete, a muscular lynx now stood, with shining black fur and the customary glowing eyes, a brilliant golden hue. Aeriah barely retained his conscious thought as he looked around at each of his targets. If he played it right, he could be just as effective with his claws as Dagerly was with his knives.

Aeriah moved swiftly towards his closest opponent, using his new agility and perception to his advantage. He darted at the man's back, and he successfully took him out with a precision swipe of his recently-formed paw. Drawing himself back into the shadow of a nearby building underneath the falling sun, he planned his next move. Of course, he would be moving on to the next in line, but the way there would prove to be a trick; there was a street that intersected the row of buildings he was occupying and the one that his target was currently inspecting, and as if the street wasn't enough, the buildings curled around the square's pedestal in a circle – Aeriah was forced to chuckle at the irony – like flowers aiming for the sun, which had allowed a marginal amount of light from the retreating star in, unlike the row he was waiting in. Aeriah sneered, a surprisingly easy expression to pull off as a cat, he found.

After a moment's thought, he found the best course of action was to just sprint across the street and hope that nobody saw the large black lynx trying to innocuously kill off a few humans. With decisive motions, Aeriah bounded from his hiding place and across the street. When he arrived at the next row of buildings – and in turn the next quarter of the square's circle – he was fortunate enough to find a small niche between two of the houses that allowed absolutely no light in. Observing his charges, he found that apparently not a single one had seen anything out of the ordinary. Perfect.

Again bolting, he reached the second human on his path and took him out with razor precision. Smirking within his cat form, Aeriah found that he rather liked playing the rogue. Settling himself within another niche, he was happy to find that the next on his tour was on the same block as the one he had just finished. His lithe limbs once again pounced and the third man was taken care of.

When he saw the fourth, he was rather hesitant; he hadn't liked killing women, even if they proved a threat to his own safety. It just felt wrong. Thinking quickly, he found an alternative. Instead of moving straight for the woman, Aeriah ran and ducked behind the stone pedestal in the center of the square-circle. Peeking over top of the stone, he found the fifth person to be indeed a male. Unfortunately, he was inching rather close to the woman. He began to strike up a conversation, and the woman had actually responded – as if Aeriah had expected anything differently. With the new development, he would have to take care and use exact timing. As soon as he saw the man within arm's reach of the woman, Aeriah put his new plan into action, hoping that the haphazard amendments of his were going to actually work.

He transformed back into his night elf form – not quite as painful as the cat's had been – and searched through his pack. Just as he had suspected, he still had one potion left from Dagerly's weekly potion-making. And it was a useful one, to boot.

He pulled the cork from the top of the bottle and placed it on the ground. He then pulled a nondescript straight stave from his back and hoped once more that this would work. He dipped both ends in the potion and replaced the cork, putting the bottle of potion back in his pack and slipping that over his shoulders. The next phase of his newest plan was starting; he crawled from around the pedestal and ran at full sprint at the two who were quickly becoming more than friends. Using their lackluster supervision against them, he was able to run behind them and halt once more, this time praying to Elune. With a swift motion, he took the stave and pulled it over their heads, afterward yanking the wood backwards, catching both by the throat – not pulling enough to strangle them. The newly-formed couple took a few breaths of the potion-imbued staff and was instantly put to sleep. Aeriah thanked Dagerly for the sleeping potion and moved on to the final phase of his plan.

Dragging the two humans across the ground, he pulled them outside of the faux barrier of Dalaran and set back to searching for more of the Syndicate to take care of.

* * *

Simonee and Garret cautiously made their way around the perimeter of Dalaran, looking for suspicious activity in the eerily dead town. Simonee couldn't help but feel animosity toward Krionoso for the recent turn of events.

'_Leave it to the blasted fool to bring the Syndicate here. Always careless,'_ he thought sourly.

His thoughts were interrupted by Sira's report. _"There's a few headed your way. If you stay where you are, you'll be in a perfect position."_

'_Right, thank you.'_

Simonee passed the news on to Garret, and did as told. Moments later, three patrollers emerged from the exterior line of buildings. Two were men who wielded very heavy-looking swords and plate armor, while the third was a woman who seemed to be meek and somewhat disinterested. They stopped at seeing the two standing near the edge of the 'shield', but none looked worried about it.

"You take the pallies, I get the girl?" Simonee asked Garret.

"Ha! Indeed!" the draenei shouted mirthfully. For some reason, Simonee thought that Garret would enjoy this entirely too much.

The two paladins began to rush forward, and Garret matched, hammer in hand. Simonee heard as they clashed, but was too occupied with finding his own charge to watch. She had apparently taken advantage of the paladins' distraction, and disappeared. To where, Simonee didn't know. Until a large chunk of ice shattered at his feet.

It wasn't very often that Simonee was taken off guard, but this was a pleasant surprise. He hopped backward in reaction, and looked around more diligently than he had before, beginning to take the threat seriously.

"Behind you!" whispered a woman's voice. It wasn't Sira's.

Reacting accordingly, Simonee turned and jumped away. A fireball narrowly missed him by inches, sending a hot streak up his arm. Looking back up, he spotted the woman, holding another fireball at the ready.

Intrigued by her actions, Simonee asked, "If you are aiming to kill someone, why would you warn them first?"

The woman smirked coyly. "Because."

She hurled the fireball and Simonee dove out of the way. The flames hit the dirt, missing Simonee again. He stood, casting a shield over himself before tossing one of his own fireballs at the woman in retribution. She easily dodged it, but halted her motion afterward. She was toying with him. Taking it in stride, Simonee prepared himself to quick-cast. With any amount of luck, having two spells to dodge would be too much for his adversary.

He focused intently, keeping his breathing slow and steady and his thoughts clear and ordered. A fireball began to gain intensity, and at its pinnacle, Simonee released it. Without delay, a shard of ice was forced into existence and shot at the opposing mage, hoping that he sent it in a direction that the woman would decide to take.

She predictably dodged the flames, but was caught off guard by the ice. She was somehow able to raise a shield in time before being pelted by the sharp frostbolt. She was sent flying backwards and remained lying on the ground. Taking the advantage he had won, Simonee proceeded to approach the woman slowly and with stave in hand, keeping one hand open for casting.

The woman didn't rise, but she was still breathing. She had her eyes closed, but Simonee was almost sure that it was a ruse. Without thought, he began the incantation for another fireball, and still the woman remained on the ground. Simonee began to doubt his original judgment of her trickery. Whether or not she was indeed unconscious or not, he wouldn't know. He sent off the fireball, and she wouldn't rise again.

* * *

Garret was having a great time with the paladins as opponents. They always kept him on his feet, making sure he didn't get too comfortable with one plan of attack. The two had originally been both shielded, forcing him to dodge while they retained their invulnerability. Then they moved on to shielding one and attacking with the other while the first healed. And after that was leaving both unshielded and attacking as they grew more and more desperate to kill the shaman. It didn't take long after that for Garret's hammer to claim its first victim. It had been a clean kill with the poor paladin's neck snapping after a vicious strike to the face.

After that, the second one simply became exponentially more desperate and began flailing his blade around recklessly. Able to step around the flurry of spins and slices, Garret placed totems around his battleground and simply watched as the paladin became slower and slower, spinning with as much velocity as a sea snail crawling from his shelter. Eventually, Garret became bored with the paladin and began to take the fight seriously. It wasn't long after that that both paladins lay dead on the ground. Garret simply chuckled.

Catching up with Simonee, they waited for Sira's word again. When it was given, she told them simply, _"Come back to the house. All Syndicate have been cleared. We all need to have a discussion."_

Confused as to what the discussion would be, Garret shrugged and followed Simonee as he led them back to Sira's house.

* * *

A/N: Excuse me for a bit, while I allow myself a little internet euphemism time. OMFGWTFBBQROFLMAO. Thank you. I can't believe it, but this is the longest chapter to date. I hope you enjoyed. I'm going to go collapse now. Please excuse any mistaeks you might find, as always...


	14. Chapter 13: Choices

Review Replies (Whoo!):

Scion: I tried to make the fights interesting, and I suppose I succeeded in that endeavor. I gave Krionoso a blade, so what's the point not using it! Besides, I needed a starting point. Thanks for the review.

Matt: I'm sorry. I guess I got a little carried away with my fight sequences. Oh well, I hope I didn't destroy your opinion of the story with a little Mary-Sue/Gary-Stu-ness. Thanks for the review, and welcome back!

**Trial by Fire**

**Chapter Thirteen: Choices**

The walk to Sira's house turned out to be a short one indeed. Within moments, Simonee found himself taking the brass doorknob in his hand. He sighed as he did so, pausing momentarily to ponder about why Sira had wanted to discuss anything; though it was probably somewhat important. Otherwise, she probably wouldn't make anything of it.

Standing behind Simonee, and waiting patiently for him to open the door, Garret wondered why he hesitated.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

Simonee looked up at the draenei and sighed again. "I'll be fine. Just thinking… that's all."

After another second of pause, Simonee finally turned the knob and opened the door. Inside, everyone had taken a seat somewhere, apparently waiting for the final two to arrive in order to begin. As soon as they entered, Simonee and Garret noticed as the others all straightened slightly, tensing for one thing or another. All except for the priestess. She sat, slouching over the kitchen table with a distracted look dominating her facial features. Her eyes were strangely dull and her usually alert and watchful self was strangely at peace. A curious smirk was on display as she stared into space.

Something about the demeanor confused Simonee; normally, she was the first one to take notice of a detail, no matter how small the detail turned out to be. She was always perceptive and observant of everything whenever Simonee saw her, but now she was distant, lost in whatever thought she was pondering over.

Soon, however, the thing that had had her vexed disappeared almost instantaneously and she resumed her watchfulness. Taking notice of the last two arrivals, she motioned for them to find a seat and began to smile wider, losing the somewhat mischievous smirk.

"So you're here; excellent. Now we may begin."

She stopped speaking in order to take a tea kettle from the fireplace and filled seven cups with the boiling water. "Krionoso, while I have you here, I have something to tell you," she said as she stirred the contents of each cup with a small teaspoon. Taking a tray from one of the tall cabinets above the fireplace, she set the cups on it and resumed. "I have already told Aubrey this, but I believe that you need to know this as well."

She chuckled and brought the tray to the living room, where most of the occupants of her house were sitting. "Do you remember when I told you that your mother was a traveling maiden, too busy to keep you with her?"

Krionoso nodded and narrowed his eyes in thought as he took a cup of tea from the silver tray. "Yes… but why?"

As Sira continued distributing the tea, she began to reply.

"I remember that moment… it was one of the memories I'll always keep. I asked you this now… because I am your mother. I couldn't tell you then. You were just beginning your training, and I couldn't have you fretting about me. I never wanted to jeopardize your training – your future. However, not everything I said that day was a lie. What I told you about your father is absolutely true. He was one of the most amazing mages I've ever had the pleasure of seeing in battle. I remember the day he went to fight the Scourge outside of the city. I pleaded for him not to go, but he was a man of duty, and he simply told me that he had to. He… didn't come back. He died, and I'm sure he's off wandering the plaguelands as one of those abominations. The best fate I could ever hope for him now is that he escaped the Lich King's grasp and became a Forsaken."

She paused again as a tear rolled down her face. "He looked me straight in the eye, and told me to keep you out of trouble… and teach you everything I could about life and the lessons it holds."

"I don't understand… it makes no _sense_! Why couldn't you tell me then, when I was still hopeful of finding my mother!?" Krionoso asked, gripping the teacup tightly.

"If I had told you then, it was a very real possibility that you would abandon your training to stay with me and protect me," Sira said. A smile broke out among the glistening tears as she answered. "You used to be so noble… so caring… you would have lost everything, and it would have been my fault. I couldn't do that to you."

"Well, there's nothing worth being caring or noble for anymore. The world doesn't appreciate noble people anymore."

Simonee began to speak up. "You only say that because you couldn't keep a good thing while it was offered to you. I can personally say for every person here, except for you, that the world indeed cares about noble people. Had you stayed with my group, you could've seen this too! You could have escaped from the Defias – you could have wiped clean the slate, taken charge of what you were doing. Krionoso, you wouldn't be running from the king's wrath if you had stayed with us…"

"Impossible," Krionoso said. "I had already taken Wrynn. Even if I wanted to stay with you, I couldn't. I was in an impossible position."

Simonee sighed. "You're just as foolish as I remember. You insist on seeing it in that way. Look at it my way; you and the king could've worked something out that wouldn't have dragged you into this. Community service – or even military service – and you wouldn't even need to be locked in the Stockades! Certainly, that must sound better than being a fugitive on the run? If you had come to an agreement with him, I'm sure he would have allowed you to remain with the group, in exchange for doing some errands for him!"

Simonee wasn't sure whether or not he was speaking the truth; he couldn't quite vouch for the king's feelings after having been taken captive.

Krionoso looked downward into his teacup, watching as the liquid swirled inside the porcelain.

"Instead, you betrayed us, the king, and the rest of Stormwind all due to a grudge that wasn't even yours to carry," Simonee said. He took a sip from his own cup and watched Krionoso's reaction.

"It became mine to carry when I joined the Brotherhood," the mage replied, almost inaudibly. The rest of Simonee's group had watched the whole exchange with interest, hoping that Krionoso would finally see a way back to good graces.

Sira had also been watching and listening as Simonee tried to coax Krionoso back to reason. She sighed before intervening. "You are both quite correct. Unfortunately, you are also both terribly incorrect. Krionoso, you could have saved yourself from the Defias' hold on you at any time, and yes, you may have enjoyed a better life with Simonee's group. But, at the same time, you would have lost out on the opportunity of learning a very important lesson."

"What lesson would that be?" Krionoso asked. He looked distraught and dismayed, but retained his stubborn nature.

"The lesson of loyalty… and the lesson of priority. You were too set in your ways that you didn't see what was happening to you. Your loyalties were misplaced, and now you are seeing that. You didn't allow yourself to be righted because you put priority in the wrong places."

Krionoso sat silently, allowing the full brunt of the discussion to settle in. The familiar pangs of guilt once again played at his heartstrings, and he wondered once again if he had made the right choice.

"You can't be blamed for making a choice. Life itself is a series of choices that make us who we are. If you don't make any choice, then your life becomes a wasted one – one with absolutely no redemption," Sira continued. "Even if you make a wrong choice, it can be undone. The problem you are faced with now is that you continued along a long sting of clearly unavoidable mistakes."

Krionoso's face began to betray anger. Only he and Sira knew that it was directed towards himself. "As far as I know, I only made one choice: the choice to follow in Van Cleef's footsteps. After that…" the mage faltered. "After that, it all took on a mind of its own. I couldn't rescind any of my actions because I didn't know I was making them… I couldn't see past the promises of power to find the mistakes that would form in the future. And every one I made built upon the previous one, and soon enough, it had become an insurmountable mountain."

Krionoso began to raise his voice into a shout as he continued. "It all happened too quickly for me to see and before long, I couldn't counter it! I couldn't do anything about it!" He began to sob as he laid his problems bare.

"You can start reversing the trend now by coming back with us to Stormwind," Simonee said, trying to play off of Krionoso's emotions. "And from there, it's up to you. I'm sure we can get you an appeal… especially now. Possibly we could win you a shot at freedom. But we don't know until you give us that opportunity, and to do that, you must come with us. Even then, I'm sure the stockades are far better than death."

Krionoso sighed, setting aside his emotions, and allowing himself deep into thought. He was becoming torn; he was allowing himself to be swayed. Should he choose redemption that could lead to the stockades, and possibly death, or loyalty to something that would most likely kill him and probably wouldn't have much more of a lifespan afterward?

"I can't do it," he muttered. It was too much to think about, and it had come about too quickly.

Simonee watched as Krionoso continued to struggle within himself, even after he had made his choice. Simonee knew that his counterpart was being stubborn – even with his own self. He could see that Krionoso had wanted desperately to change his ways, but his own personality was barring himself from making the first step towards the change.

Sira finally broke the silence. "Krionoso, go upstairs and rest. You have had a hard day, and you have much to think about. Do not worry about it now; you have time."

Krionoso looked up at Sira and nodded sullenly. He stood and walked up the stairs, and Simonee heard a door shut as he took a room.

Sira listened as well, and turned back to the group as she began to speak again. "Don't think that that was all I had to say. You all have something to speak about as well. And I have something to give to you."

Confused, Simonee watched as Sira once again foraged in the cabinet for something. She pulled out a small jewelry box made of wood. Setting the box on the table, Sira opened it and pulled out a pendant of some sort. The pendant hanged loosely from a silver chain by a small ring. The object itself was crafted from gold, formed to make the shape of a torch, lit by a blazing fire and held by a gauntleted hand.

"This was left by a friend to my lover's. It was never told to me what it was, but I have my own suspicions. I give it to you now, in hopes that you find what it unlocks."

Simonee had no idea what Sira could have meant. He wasn't in the mood for a riddle, but took the pendant from the woman's wrinkled hand anyway. _'A riddle may just be a fine distraction,'_ he thought.

"I shall leave you now. I am far too old to be staying up quite so late," Sira said.

Simonee looked toward the window. Outside, the day had gone from late-afternoon to dusk, and he hadn't even noticed. With a shrug, he muttered a 'good night' to Sira and fingered the pendant. Whatever it was, it probably went to something close-by. Figuring it was best not to worry about it right then, Simonee simply placed it around his neck.

"I wonder what she meant about us needing to speak about something..." Aubs said. "It all seems so strange."

Simonee sighed, "I know. What do you think she wanted us to discuss?"

"Maybe something about either the pendant or about what just happened with Krionoso?" Garret asked.

"It's likely," Dagerly said. Yawning, he continued, "But, I couldn't tell you. I do need some sleep though. I'm going to bed."

"Good idea. We should all catch some sleep. Talk more in the morning," Simonee said, standing to stretch. With muttered affirmations, the rest of the group stood and began to walk upstairs after Dagerly.

As Simonee found the room he had taken the night before, he couldn't help but think about what had happened; and for that matter, what was wrong with Sira before they had started to talk. Something seemed strange, but Simonee wasn't sure what it was. Whatever it may have been, it surely couldn't bode well for him or his group.

* * *

A/N: I am glad to be done with this chapter! Sorry that it's not too lengthy, but I felt that it deserved its own chapter. Some important character development (I squirm with joy that I could pull it off this late in the series) and a _very_ important plot point/object. Well, I thank you once more for reading, and I am off to update the profile.


	15. Chapter 14: Questionnaire with the Demon

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**Trial by Fire**

**Chapter Fourteen: Questionnaire with the Demon**

Going to sleep that night hadn't proved entirely too difficult for Simonee, though it had taken some time; many questions swam about in his head about Sira. Why was she so aloof when he arrived? Was she telling him everything she knew, and if she wasn't, what kind of secrets was she keeping? It all was worrying him, making him think too much. He had set those thoughts aside, however, as he finally fell asleep. But then, even his dream that night had made him wonder.

The dream was so strange. Simonee dreamed of a beautiful, golden-haired woman, beckoning him to her with an alluring sweep of her hand. The atmosphere was a strange room of pure white, almost blinding in nature. The woman was absolutely ravishing, wearing a dress made of some fine, silver fabric that clung to her curves and left almost nothing to the imagination. The long skirt flowed fluidly around her bare feet with a phantom wind as she stood, showing off some of her shapely legs. The entire picture made Simonee think of this as being an angel of some sort.

The woman continued to seductively beckon him forth with waves and a giggle as he struggled to stop his legs from carrying him to her. Simonee was unsure of the situation – it all seemed too perfect, too real to be a dream – but couldn't keep himself from moving forward. It felt as if he was floating toward the woman, having been lifted off his feet by her alluring beauty.

There was faint whispering, barely audible over the deafening silence of the white room, but Simonee couldn't quite figure out exactly what was being said to him. More echoing giggles effectively blocked the noise from his hearing, but as he continued to draw closer, the whispering grew louder and louder, but remained as unintelligible as ever. When he was a mere two paces from the mysterious lady, the whispering became a roaring, and finally Simonee made it out as a growling, deep and foreign speech. That was when he was woken by a voice calling out to him.

"_Simonee, wake up!"_

He was jolted awake by the reverberating command, sitting up instantly and sweating profusely. The vision of the woman and the white room was lost as Simonee inspected his room. The single window to his left allowed the moon's light to shine through, lending its illumination to the blanketed bed at Simonee's knees. There was a bookcase directly in front of the bed, and the door was located to his right. No indication of a white room anywhere existed. Panting slightly, he sat and rubbed his eyes.

"What?" he whispered, confused.

"_Simonee, come down to the dining room. I need to speak with you alone, and it cannot wait until dawn. Come in haste," _Sira's voice explained.

Groggily, Simonee began to rise from the bed, making sure to dress in his robe before exiting the room. He couldn't understand what Sira had to say that couldn't wait until morning. Deciding that it was probably something related to her strange actions the day before, he disregarded the thoughts and left his room, keeping his door open. He shuffled down the short hallway and down the stairs to the first floor, looking around the dining room. There sat Sira in her customary chair, beaming at him with decaying teeth. Other than that, nothing was amiss.

"What did you need me for, priestess?" Simonee asked, entering the room and settling himself in the seat directly across from her.

"I need to speak with you," she replied simply, allowing the smile to fade slightly.

It was then that Simonee noticed the same mischievous glint in Sira's eye as he had noticed before the discussion with Krionoso. He instantly became more curious as to what she needed to say.

"About what?" he asked.

Sira's smile faded the rest of the way into a sly smirk and began to speak. What she spoke, however, wasn't Common, or any other dialect that Simonee was fond of. It was the same garbled tones of the guttural language that he heard during his dream, though louder now than it had been then. He began to ask her what she was saying, but was interrupted with a flash of blinding white light and a smell of sulfur, bursting forth from the priestess herself.

When the light subsided and Simonee's eyes adjusted, it wasn't the Sira that Simonee knew that sat in the chair. Instead, it was the very same young and beautiful woman occupying it; the woman Simonee saw from his dream. He began to realize that whatever his dream was, it must have been a premonition, and he didn't like it too much at the moment.

The woman giggled again, and said, "About your immediate future."

Simonee raised an eyebrow, now more confused than ever. "What do you mean?" he asked. "And for that matter, who are you?"

The woman laughed and replied, "I am Sira, of course! I'm just a bit… younger and a bit more powerful than she had ever been." She sighed before continuing. "And I mean to say that you are now in a situation, which apparently, you haven't figured out yet."

Simonee looked at the younger Sira. He was beginning to worry about his wellbeing, even though his own curiosity had gotten the better of him; first, leading him here, and now, keeping him planted in the chair. She beamed again, as she had when Simonee first descended the stairs, her old and rotting teeth now replaced by two rows of perfectly straight, white ones. A sense of dread began to fill his gut.

"So, then, what situation is this, if I may be so bold to ask?" Simonee remarked, frowning.

"I'm surprised! You're rather intelligent for your kind, why can't you figure it out on your own?" Sira asked, clicking her tongue. After a short silence, she said, "Oh well, I guess that not everyone can deduce what's going on all the time. Let me first say that I've admired your progress so far. I never expected to see you here with Krionoso so… quickly. You've managed the task quite well. But, you have had some help that you don't exactly see.

"There are some beings that have been watching you, and they see a threat that you pose to them… and they want that threat gone. So, they've come up with a clever way to take you out of the equation long enough for their plan to play out. I'm that very distraction."

Simonee was shocked, to say the least. He hadn't suspected Sira of distracting him. In fact, it had seemed unlikely; but that didn't stop him from formulating new opinions of the once seemingly-innocuous woman.

"You see, it's been me behind the scenes the whole time; ever since you received that letter from Alexston, I've been pulling strings and manipulating the situation! If I had to list all of the people I've led you on with, it would extend forever! Though, in all fairness, I would have to tell you that you did some of the work your own self!

"I hadn't expected to stay in one person for too long, but when you came in contact with this poor old excuse of a priestess, I saw opportunity for some extra fun. You see, I wasn't Sira to begin with, but over time, I became her. Using her, I was able to keep a trustworthy persona to lead you along, though she does sometimes present problems by breaking free of my control. Oh, I have manipulated the Defias, the Syndicate, Krionoso, that fool Van Cleef, a simple sailor named Johann, and even Wrynn, making you think that your true objective was to kill Krionoso, when in all actuality, he didn't have a clue about anything! He didn't betray you willingly – I _made _him."

The revelations truly shocked Simonee. Here he thought that he had been in control of the situation from day one, when really it was completely out of his hands, having been led on a string by some entity who wanted to keep him away from some sort of plan by a much larger force. And it hadn't exactly taken him long to figure out what force that was; the Burning Legion was forever planning and plotting, though he hadn't expected them to pay much attention to him – he was just a simple mage trying to be loyal to his kingdom and his king.

"So what are you planning for me now?" he asked, his mind being battered by the amount of new information he was receiving.

"After all I've told you, you still don't know?" the impersonator asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I've got conjectures," Simonee replied, tired.

"Then you should already know, then, shouldn't you? But, I don't want to kill you just yet; you're proving to be an interesting specimen. And besides, I want to have a bit more fun with your group. No, I've got other plans for you," she said. Reverting back to the strange language, she began casting another spell. Simonee was unable to escape before another flash of white light assaulted him.

When he was able to see again, he saw that he had been transported into the white room from his dream. A sense of hopelessness came to him as he looked around, seeing nothing but a dark shape huddled in one corner of the room. As far as he knew, he was now in control of the woman, trapped somewhere where he couldn't interfere with her as she toyed with his group. Another flash of white alerted him to another being coming into the white room. It was the imposter.

"Now," she stated with authority. "That old hag gave you something that happens to be very dear to my masters while she regained control this past afternoon. I would like to request that back from you now."

Simonee had forgotten about the weight of the torch pendant that Sira had given him yesterday, hanging loosely from his neck. Luckily, it was hidden underneath his robe, away from the woman's sight. That could at least buy him some time to keep it away from her.

"I'm sorry, but I don't have it on me at the very moment. You can ask one of my group members to give it to you; I'm sure they'd only be too happy to oblige," he said defiantly. The woman smirked coyly, and Simonee couldn't tell if she believed him or not. "By the way, where am I?" he asked, trying to buy a little time.

The woman reached into her blouse and pulled out a silver chain holding a crystal. Pointing to the crystal, she said, "In here. None escape unless I will it, so don't even try." Simonee saw that the woman had a point. If someone were to get the pendant away from her, however… that could lead to a promising start.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I have a trinket to retrieve." The woman disappeared with yet another burst of light, leaving only Simonee and the huddled mass in the white expanse.

Simonee sighed, a renewed wave of hopelessness washing over him. He only hoped that his group could get that necklace away from her. But, if he was correct, she was a demon of the Legion, and that meant trouble for anyone attacking her. Even if she was only an underling, she was still marginally more powerful than any regular being. Sighing again, Simonee decided to bide his time. Maybe his group would find out some way.

'_Wait…'_ he thought, some hope returning to him.

Looking back to the crumpled mass across the room, he gained a few ideas. If he was lucky, there was an ally here with him.

* * *

Dagerly just knew that there was something wrong, from the moment he opened his eyes. The moon was still barely visible over the horizon, peeking up over its resting place before the sun regained its domain. The darkness was hardly reassuring, but still Dagerly tried to have a positive outlook on the day. If Simonee was successful at breaking Krionoso's stubbornness yesterday, then all the group had to do was escort him back to Stormwind and be done with the problem. But, that optimism paled in comparison to the nasty intuition he was receiving.

Rising from his bed, he quietly dressed in his leather armor and tiptoed to the door, opening it slowly in order to keep quiet. In the hallway, he noticed that Simonee's door was open. Peeking inside, he didn't see Simonee himself. His bed was empty, and his bed sheets were disheveled and messy. _'Not good,'_ Dagerly reminded himself.

Moving further down the hall to the staircase, he heard voices coming from the dining room. It sounded like Simonee talking to a young woman, but who could the woman be? The only women Dagerly knew of in the house were Sira and Aubs, but the voice didn't sound like either of them. It sounded… well, it sounded _sexy_. Dagerly couldn't find any other way to describe it. Keeping to the shadows, he descended the stairs and tried to listen to the conversation.

"…even Wrynn, making you think that your true objective was to kill Krionoso, when in all actuality, he didn't have a clue about anything! He didn't betray you willingly – I _made _him."

"So what are you planning for me now?" Simonee asked.

"After all I've told you, you still don't know?" the female voice inquired.

"I've got conjectures," Simonee replied, apparently tired.

"Then you should already know, then, shouldn't you? But, I don't want to kill you just yet; you're proving to be an interesting specimen. And besides, I want to have a bit more fun with your group. No, I've got other plans for you."

Dagerly finally made it to the bottom of the staircase and caught a glimpse of the woman. He wasn't very surprised to see that his assessment of the voice was correct. The woman had platinum-blond hair, a cute face, and wore a tight silver dress. She was indeed very shapely, but Dagerly somehow knew the woman was dangerous. The intuition he had had was telling him not to trust this woman's appearance. It seemed to be punctuated as a brilliant white light engulfed Simonee. When the light dissipated, Simonee no longer sat at the table. Stifling his urge to call out, Dagerly watched as the woman began muttering something in a foreign tongue before she herself was lost in the light. Whatever she did to Simonee apparently didn't harm him if she did it to herself, which made Dagerly feel at least a small bit better, even if his leader was now missing. Where he could've gone was a complete mystery.

Not wanting to still be there when the woman returned, Dagerly turned around and ran up the stairs. He had to tell the others. Rapping on each member's door, he called out for them to wake up and meet him in his room. He paused slightly at Krionoso's door, having heard the woman say that he hadn't betrayed the group himself. If that was true, then he would gladly help to try and find Simonee. When he alerted everyone, he returned to his room and prepared what he was going to say. The events downstairs troubled him, but he needed to maintain composure.

Soon after he sat on his bed, the four others had arrived at his door, filing in slowly and groggily.

"What is this all about?" Krionoso asked, rubbing his eyes. Dagerly knew he had to tell the mage about the woman's manipulation.

"You all have to hear something. Hurry up and get inside!" he called, motioning for Aubs to close the door.

"Where's Simonee?" asked Aeriah, looking around at each person in the room, not seeing the leader.

"That's exactly it!" Dagerly said. "He's been taken somewhere!"

"How do you know?" asked Krionoso, sitting on a chair he had found, resting his head on his arm.

"I overheard him speaking to some strange lady, and when they were done, she transported him somewhere. I don't know everything about what's going on, but it can't be good. Has anyone seen Sira?"

Everyone shook their head. No one had seen her since she went to bed the afternoon before.

"I think she may be in trouble as well. The woman that Simonee was talking to wasn't her; it was some young woman. She went to wherever she sent Simonee, and she could be back at any moment now."

"So, what are you planning?" Garret asked, with his confusion apparent in his eyes. "If you don't know where Simonee is, how are we supposed to rescue him?"

Dagerly rubbed his forehead with a palm. Garret had made a good point. Something would have to alert them as to what was going on, and Dagerly knew that he wasn't about to walk up to the woman and ask her. Something about her made him feel uneasy. "I don't know," he said. "Maybe Simonee will find a way to contact us or something. Other than that… I don't know,' he repeated.

"Well, what are you suggesting in the meantime?" Aubs asked.

"Definitely stay away from the woman if you see her. She's got blond hair, and wears some sort of silver dress. And I wouldn't exactly trust Sira either. I'm thinking that they may be cooperating with each other. Best thing I can think of is to just stay out of the house for as long as possible, and make sure you're aware of what you're doing. Especially if you find yourself in contact with Sira."

The four nodded. _'Good. At least they trust me that much.'_ Dagerly thought. When everyone began to exit, he called for Krionoso to stay. He deserved to know that he had been had.

"What is it now?" the mage asked with some irritation.

"There's something I need to ask you."

"Oh. Not this again. Yes, I was in league with the Syndicate, but it was only for the shortest of times!" Krionoso said, exasperated.

"No, not that. Have… have you found yourself recently… not in control of your actions?" Dagerly asked, trying to find the correct words.

Krionoso thought momentarily. "Now that you bring it up… I thought I felt... weird yesterday. It felt almost as if I was watching myself while someone else was acting and speaking. As I was listening to Simonee and Sira, I truly wanted to change, but it was as if a block was placed on my mind, only allowing me to try and disagree. Do you think that it was the woman?"

Dagerly nodded. "That's what I'm guessing, and I think I have proof; when I was listening to Simonee and her, I heard her tell Simonee that you weren't in control of yourself when you attacked us. She was. She forced you to attack Simonee that day in Moonglade, and again in Duskwood."

A mixture of emotions played across Krionoso's face; joy, anger, embarrassment, grief, and most of all, understanding. Finally, he settled on rage. His face contorted by a large scowl, he said, "Who do you think was using me? Whoever it was, I'm going to rip apart!"

Dagerly shrugged. "I couldn't tell you, but I can tell you that I got the nastiest feeling when I saw the lady. Something's not right about her. If I were you, I'd stay as far away as possible for awhile. It seems she's been manipulating you the most recently. Keep your mind guarded... and tell one of us if you feel as if something's not right. We need to take all precautions."

Krionoso nodded. It made sense to him. "Hey, Dagerly… thanks. And I'm sorry for anything I may have done when I was… well, you know."

"Don't worry about it. At least now we know that it wasn't your fault. And besides, I have a feeling we may have a chance to exact revenge soon. And against the true culprit."

With that, Dagerly allowed Krionoso to leave the room. The mage paused momentarily at the doorway, shaking his head solemnly. Dagerly knew that Krionoso was conflicted, and that he would need a bit of time to consider everything. But, at the same time, the rogue knew that Krionoso would be able to guard his mind better against whoever was toying with him.

The odd feeling returned to Dagerly, telling him that the woman had probably returned to the house. Shooing Krionoso out of his room, Dagerly whispered, "Get out of here! Go back to bed."

Krionoso complied, shutting the door on his way out. As darkness once again settled in the room, Dagerly finally had time to process all that he had learned during the meager morningtime so far. If someone was using the group, it would be made apparent soon, and in a big way. Shuddering slightly, he slipped back beneath the cover and stared out the window, waiting for something to happen. Whatever he was expecting, he didn't know.

"_Hey, Dagerly. I need to speak with you," _spoke a familiar voice in his mind.

Apparently, that something had found him.

* * *

A/N: Well, now! I must say that I probably like this chapter the best so far out of any I've written! (And to tell you the truth, I had a different chapter written – this is actually a rewrite!) I plan to have a very big chapter for you next update, though I may need some time on it. A lot of action, a lot of development, and a lot more _Trial_ coming your way soon, so stay tuned! Cookies for those who spot the reference in the chapter title…


	16. Chapter 15: Plans

**Trial by Fire**

**Chapter Fifteen: Plans**

Dawn's light came just in time to see Dagerly nearly jump from his mattress. He recognized the voice. It was wholly unmistakable. That voice was Simonee's.

"Simonee!?" he nearly shouted.

_"Hush!" _Simonee chided. _"Just listen. I have something important to tell you. The Sira in the house with you is not the Sira we've been led to believe. She is an agent of the Burning Legion."_

"What?" Dagerly whispered. It was apparently much worse than he had originally thought. A demon from the Burning Legion was not to be taken lightly.

Simonee sighed, with the tell-tale telepathic echo. _"Do I need to repeat myself? Hush! But yes, the woman in the house with you now is not Sira Witherwinter. She is a doppelganger, and must be treated cautiously."_

"Well, if she's a demon, then she'll need to be dealt with!" the rogue whispered.

_"Indeed. But that comes later today. For now, I need you and the others to meet up and begin planning. I fear she's more than just an underling. You shouldn't meet in the house, though. I'll have them meet you in the town square. Try to allay suspicion for as long as possible. I have to go, I'm being kept in the same place the real Sira is, and she needs attention."_

"But..." Dagerly began.

_"Damn, that's right. The crystal pendant around Sira's neck. That's what you'll need to get in order to free me. Good luck."_

"Wait!"

By then, Simonee's presence had already left Dagerly's mind, leaving the rogue scratching his unruly hair. What was Simonee thinking? Of course having the group leave at the same time would stir up some suspicion in the demon's mind! Dagerly halted himself before furthering. Simonee would be smarter than this, of course he wouldn't send everyone at the same time. But still, how would he pull it off without coordinating the process in person? Once again, Dagerly shook it off and thanked his knowledge of his friend. If anyone could do the impossible, even through telepathy, it was definitely Simonee.

Dagerly stretched himself out, relieving the tenser muscles in his back. Groaning as he released the stretch, he looked around his room. The same old articles of furniture and decoration stood stolidly along the walls, as if he had expected much difference. Sitting up, he once again stretched his upper body and decided what he could do against a demon.

For one thing, strength and power would play very large parts in the equation. If this demon was a lesser demon, how lesser was it? If it was a greater demon, how much greater? How did he stack up against such an opponent? All of these questions and more needed to be answered.

Another thing would be expectation. Would this demon know about the attack? If so, how would it prepare? Would it already know how the fight would play out? Another batch of nigh-unanswerable questions.

Dagerly already knew that stealth would be a minor annoyance to a demon, nothing more than forcing a trouble to track through other senses than sight. His daggers would probably just scrape the top layer of the thick armor the demon was sure to have. He had no arcane talent, so no help would arise there. This was definitely a fight that he would need to rely on his allies for, and he was damn glad to have Krionoso once again fighting for his team, even if he couldn't hope for Simonee.

Noting the rising sun gaining altitude, Dagerly slid from under his sheets and moved to the door. He hadn't even bothered to remove his polished leather armor before entering his bed the night prior. That, more than anything, showed his newly-frayed nerves to be what they were.

Yet again stretching to relieve his muscles, Dagerly set out from his room to go downstairs. What he would find there, he didn't know, but it was worth the risk to find out.

As it turned out, all he found was the doppelganger in disguise, eating breakfast peacefully at the table. As soon as he came into view, she flashed him a rotting smile and asked, "Good morning, dear. Would you like something to eat?"

Dagerly looked toward the demon, and replied. "No, thank you. I have some things to do before settling down again."

"I see. Well, the offer remains for whenever you return," not-Sira chirped brightly.

Wait.

Dagerly never told her that he was leaving the house.

Thinking it best just to leave before anything happened, he thanked the demon again and exited the house. After the door closed behind him, he made a break for the town square. Something was direly wrong with the plan, and it hadn't even begun yet! Without much thought, he dashed and reached the meeting area, not finding any resistance from the demon.

When he finally came to a stop at his destination, he doubled over and panted wildly. Maybe not from exhaustion, yet from fear. Calming down, he came to sit on one of the stone slabs littering the area. His heart still beat wildly in his chest as it tried to catch up with the rhythm of his mind, which was rapidly trying to process everything in the same instant. He began to control his breathing. Forcing his head to stop racing, he began to form rational thoughts. Not everything was lost yet. Hope still existed. The demon couldn't prepare for everything.

Dagerly just hoped that the rest of the group could get out of the house as well.

* * *

Simonee had nearly given up hope on Sira's condition. Bones had been shattered, an assortment of cuts refused to heal, spewing ichor the likes of which he hadn't seen, and her left hand had been completely severed. Things hadn't looked very good for her, and he didn't have the skills necessary to aid her. Even if he did, he had no way of accessing them within the imprisonment of the crystal. All he could do was sit and watch as Sira's health deteriorated. Not the way he'd rather be spending the day.

While he waited, Simonee tried to concentrate on his arcana. If he could cast _while_ waiting, then maybe the time would pass more quickly. Or maybe something would happen to free him. Either way, it was a good opportunity to start practicing again. With a weary glance in the direction of his ailing charge, Simonee began his mental excersises. Mere seconds later, he was prepared for his workout.

Starting off slowly with a few measly Scorches, and then working his way up to Pyroblasts, Simonee moved fluidly through his spells, knowing every individual rune by mere memory. Soon enough, he was chain-casting alternating flame and frost spells, slinging them through the still air of the holding crystal with ease, each spell hardly making a dent in the fine defenses holding him in.

After a while of these repetitions, the exhaustion settled in and he sat down to rest his weary mind, making sure to check up on Sira's still-ailing health. He sighed at her nigh-incurable disease, mostly at his own inability to cure it. Without proper treatment of her extensive injuries, she probably wouldn't survive much longer. If only he could find his way out of the crystal, maybe he could find something to help him.

_"I think you'll find my additions rather... appealing..."_

The voice rang clearly through Simonee's mind as if the words were being spoken directly in front of him, almost as if a phantom wind had carried them through untold leagues for his ears only. However, with his memory riddled with pocked holes from his stressful ordeals, he couldn't quite remember from where they had come.

_"You'll find out when the time comes..."_

He knew they were important. Whatever meaning was behind them was the key to what could possibly save Sira. He understood.

Gemmund, the old man from the Stormwind armory. The same who had leant him the Merciless Gladiator staff during the siege of the city. Somehow, he had given Simonee the means to an end, even though the salvation was weeks away. _'He must have been blessed by the Light,' _Simonee thought, almost chuckling to himself.

The only question remaining was how to use the power granted him? Surely it couldn't be as simple as merely pointing the stave in the direction of Sira's wounds, was it?

Warily, Simonee attempted it. The probability of anything happening was simply astronomical, but still he tried, with the same stubborn pride as his human brethren. And beyond all reasoning, something happened.

At first, it started as a slight twinkling light at the very tip of the gem within the stave, but soon, it evolved into something much greater. A blinding flash of light burst from the gem, glowing only more intense every time it came within proximity of one of Sira's many ailments. Simonee was forced to shield his eyes from the light while he worked, wondering whether or not the staff was actually able to do anything for the priestess. It took only a few moments for the spectacle to pass, though the impression was left on Simonee's mind. Blinded for the better part of another minute, he was forced to wait to find out how Sira fared.

The wait was simply agonizing. Simonee's curiosity burned with just about as much intensity as the light that had been emitted from his staff.

When finally his vision cleared, Simonee inspected what had happened.

* * *

Dagerly's worries proved to be unfounded, as soon the rest of the group groggily made their way to the square, each wearing the distinct look of someone very confused and angry.

As soon as he had made his way into vocal range of Dagerly, Krionoso shouted, "What in the hells are we doing here? I thought we covered all of this earlier!"

For as much as Dagerly wished to answer that question for himself, he hushed Krionoso down. "I thought so as well, but apparently not. This trouble is much more than we previously anticipated. Simonee is currently being held captive by a demon of the Burning Legion, and very well could be in a greater danger than we thought. He's brought us all here in order to find a solution to this problem."

"Simple. We blast the demon back to the Nether, and save Simonee," Krionoso said smugly, apparently bothered by being woken up again after the early morning discussion.

"Sorry to say, but not so simple. This might require just a tad more finesse than that. And besides, I think the demon knows that something is up."

Krionoso put his tired arrogance to the back of his mind and took more stock of the matter almost immediately. "You mean to tell us that... _it_... knows we're planning something... even though we haven't planned it yet?"

"That's exactly what I'm telling you."

Garret began to stroke the braided ends of his goatee as he pondered the situation. "This will definitely be tricky if she does know, and even if she doesn't, she is of the Legion, and by substantial amounts more powerful than we, so she would be able to overpower us without even giving us thought. She knows this, and is waiting for us to make the first move. Therefore, our first move should be quick and decisive. Something that will give us the upper hand should things come to blows."

"Exactly my thoughts," replied Dagerly. "But what would be so decisive?"

"Maybe an item she holds that fuels her power, or maybe something she treasures most of all?" Aubs ventured. "If we gained something of importance to her, than we should be able to diplomatically win Simonee back."

"We'll keep that in mind, but I for one doubt that this will be so easy," Dagerly said. "Any more ideas?"

The group thought silently for a few moments, with not an idea to show for it. Thoroughly frustrated, Dagerly sighed, "Something? Anything?"

It seemed collective as the group sheepishly shook their heads. Sighing again, Dagerly placed his forehead into his gloved palm. Thinking to himself, he muttered, "Y'know, if Simonee were here, he'd come up with at least a scrap of an idea..."

Minutes seemed to pass before finally someone spoke up with an idea resembling a plan.

"Perhaps, as Aubs said, there is something tying the demon's power to this plane of existence. However, rather than trying to bargain Simonee back, we destroy the object, and face a much less powerful demon," Aeriah said.

"Now there's a start!" Dagerly exclaimed happily. "But, what would be an object powerful enough to tie a demon's power to a plane of existence?"

"Actually, any number of things. Whatever the particular demon finds useful, for the most part," Garret replied, catching on to Aeriah's point of view. "If we had someone who could track down the item, then we could take it and dispose of it, along with a large sum of the demon's power."

"But with that, we come to the head of the problem. Who would be able to track such an item?" Dagerly asked.

"We can."

Dagerly looked up from his thoughtful inspection of the cobblestone street to glare at Aubs in confusion. "What do you mean?" he asked, perplexed.

"Krionoso and I. We're Sira's offspring. And by blood relation, we must have some of the gifts that she has. The only thing with that would be to tap into the power, and that's a very simple process."

"How do I not know any of this?" Krionoso interjected, throwing his hands into the air.

"Hush. Now, Aubs, do you actually know this process?" Dagerly asked, seeing the one true solution to many a problem.

Aubs simply shook her head.

"Well, now, that makes me feel just so much better..." Krionoso commented, exasperated.

Ignoring Krionoso's complaining, Dagerly began to think again. "Okay, so, while that plan's not completely out the window just yet, we have no way of getting to the one tool we have to put it into action. So, in the meantime, do we have anything else?"

"Wait... what about that trinket Sira gave to Simonee last night?" Aeriah asked, his memory kicking into action. "Could that be the item?"

"Maybe so... but we'd need Simonee in order for that to work, and his capture's the reason we're trying to plan this in the first place."

Dagerly sighed, rubbing his tired eyes with the heel of his hand. The sun had risen to nearly halfway through the sky, perching watchfully above he and the group as they deliberated the best course of action to free Simonee. Dagerly became increasingly worried about the fate of their mission. It hadn't looked good since his escape from the house, and it looked even bleaker now with the lack of ideas brought on by the group.

With a longer sigh, Dagerly said, "A head-on attack it is, then."

"What?" Krionoso roared. "That's a suicide mission, and..."

"And the only chance we have at possibly catching the demon off her guard," Garret defended, seeing the partial wisdom in Dagerly's plan.

"Exactly. I know it might not work, and there's definitely a strong possibility of failure - most likely meaning death - but it's something we have to try. For Simonee's sake."

The group was silenced in thought over the plan, but nobody disagreed. Even Krionoso had been pacified about it, whether or not he truly agreed with it.

"I'm in," Aubs said. "I have nothing better to do with my day than to go toe-to-toe with a demon, anyway." She smirked at Dagerly as she walked next to him.

"I am as well, my friend! There is no more worthy a cause than to go against adversity in the name of a friend in need," Garret said, standing by Dagerly as well.

"Call it peer pressure or whatever you want, but I'll come on this little parade as well..." Krionoso said reluctantly.

"Ha! Nothing better than hanging out, drinking a bit, slaying some monsters. So, let's get to it!" Aeriah added, smiling.

When everyone finally had agreed, Dagerly began the march back toward Sira's house, all the while doubting if he'd make it away alive.

* * *

A/N: What's this? An update!? Such a rare spawn nowadays. Heh.

So first of all, I'd like to thank those who've patiently waited for the next chapter in the saga, as it's certainly been weighing pretty heavily on me through all of this time. I am finally over that terrible writer's block, and I am back, with what should be regular updates very soon. I'd like to say first that you probably shouldn't expect the 'regular' part so much, though. I still want to be sure I'm completely back before promising much. But, this is definitely a start, and hopefully you remain with me through the four or five chapters left. That's right, I said it, four or five. It's almost done! /cry. Anyway, thanks for reading, and next chapter should be up soon (this is actually half the chapter I had planned. Next half is just about completely written already!).

Be Happy - Python


	17. Chapter 16: Armageddon

A/N: Even though my vision of Dalaran was somewhat thrown away by its revelation in the new expansion, I figure for continuity's sake (and for my creative pride's) that I'll keep the one envisioned in this series. Don't worry, though, I have plans for that sort of thing. So, with one more apology for yet another wait, here's chapter sixteen of Trial by Fire. Oh, and by the way, thanks for being here on what's essentially the 8-month anniversary of my starting this story. It really does mean a lot to me.

**Trial by Fire**

**Chapter Sixteen: Armageddon**

Simonee couldn't believe his eyes. It had to have been some sort of miracle.

Sira was completely healed of all of her ailments, severed arm and all. Staggering slightly, Simonee gasped, "How the..."

With wide eyes, Sira began to look up at the mage. With no trace of weakness, Sira stood and regarded him. "How did you get in here?" she asked.

"I... well, I was captured by the demon... are you okay?" Simonee replied.

"I'm fine. I'm also glad that the old toad Gemmund still knows his way around the arcana."

"Wait, you know of him?" Simonee was taken aback.

Sira shrugged. "Of course. Don't you know?"

Simonee replaced his concerned expression for one of confusion, and shook his head slowly. "No... know what?"

"You see, every magic user on the face of Azeroth and the worlds beyond carry with them traces that can be used to tell who they are, and the spells they cast are altered slightly by these differing magical backgrounds. So that enchantment on your stave told me who had given it to you, simply because I paid enough attention to the small details."

"But... how could you even see the small details?" Simonee asked, more than interested in the topic.

"Years and years of practice. But that's enough of this. We must find our way out of here."

"How? I've searched and searched, but nothing pertaining to a way out has shown itself, if there exists one in the first place."

Sira looked at him sternly. "I would have hoped those fool mages in Stormwind would have taught you these things. Let me tell you something; for everything in the arcane, there is a counter. You know you can dispel curses by finding the correct fit of power and curse, and that you can counter a spell in the making by simply finding what school it is from and forming a small binding spell based on the school's opposite. The same goes for entrapment spells."

Looking around the expansive white, Sira continued, "Now, I used to own this crystal, but the demon has already reconfigured the sequence of arcana needed to unlock it. So, what we'll need to do is find the new sequence, and exploit it. Ideally, we could do this without much effort if the demon bound the spell inefficiently - which is most likely, based on their impatience - but if this one knows her stuff, she will probably have found a way to weave the pattern into the spell and camouflage it. For now, however, we shall start on the basic levels of enchantment and work our way deeper in until we find it."

Simonee looked at Sira and nodded. This would take a while to do. but time was of the essence, and any help his friends could get in this battle would be crucial. With one more small mental reassurance, Simonee joined Sira in the middle of the crystalline chamber and began helping her with the incantation.

* * *

The streets of Dalaran were quiet, an aura of uneasiness and uncertainty emanating from its so few travelers roaming them. Dagerly led the group into what he hoped wasn't absolute doom, preparing himself for the upcoming fight. He nervously shifted his leather armor into place, fiddling with his daggers almost at the same time. Anything to keep his mind from the demon. The worst thing was not even knowing what the thing looked like - it wasn't even the fact that they had to fight something from the Legion!

It seemed to take eternity to reach Sira's house, but when the group finally made it, it was almost audible as their hearts pounded in their ears.

Dagerly sighed. "Ready guys? This is our only chance..." he said, eagerly keeping a watch on the oak door. Everyone quietly affirmed. Nodding quickly and gulping down the lump forged halfway down his throat, the rogue called out, "Demon! Come out and face us, you coward!"

"Come, now. Is the name-calling truly necessary? It's surely unbecoming of you," replied the most horrendous voice the group had had the displeasure of hearing. It seemed to be a cross between the sounds of nails on slate and a crow's call, at the same time holding such a deep resonance that it seemed to rumble along the ground. It rang outward, splitting even through the hardened walls of the priestess' house. As if on cue, the roof of the dwelling began to shudder, groaning loudly and warning about an impending burst-through. With one final _crash_, the thatched roof was forced off the walls, sent flying by sheer force over the still and unoccupied living quarters of Dalaran. Rising above the now uncovered home, the demon imposed its shadow across the city, covering the group as well in its expanse.

It was absolutely the most grotesque thing any of them had seen, almost as tall as one of the statues in the Valley of Heroes in Stormwind. Two identical horns rose above the demon's forehead, while its face was occupied mostly by its two eyes, both glowing a fiercely deep fel green, starkly contrasting from the deep black sockets they belonged to. A crustacean-like mouth dominated the rest of it, opening and closing greedily, in what Dagerly assumed to be a breathing motion (though why a demon would need to breathe was beyond him). The body was muscled tightly, with a natural armor - made of the most incredibly rubbery scales the rogue had ever seen - that was thick enough to stop even a spear launched from a ballista. The demon's legs looked much like those of the draenei, bent backward at the knee, and ending in hooves for feet. The hooves themselves looked cracked and dull enough to have seen their fair share of crushed enemies beneath them.

With her terrible screech, the demon called, "I feast upon your plentiful fears! Sustain me with your dread as you look upon me!"

Dagerly stood at the ready, daggers preceding him as he prepared himself for the pending battle. In his time under Mattias Shaw in SI:7, he had learned many techniques to calm himself mentally before an event, and right now, he found himself using many of them just to accomplish the task. The rest of the group did the same in their own ways, though no one actually felt calm or collected. Everyone had been antsy since they'd seen the demon, and everyone would be so until the demon was defeated. The demon simply cackled maniacally.

The air was still as the demon regarded her prey with a calculating look. With another last nonchalant chuckle, it stepped through the wreckage of the old priestess' house.

"How pitiable you foolish heroes are. All show and nothing behind it. I can see now, just through your thoughts, that you are weak; unworthy," the demon said. "Why I should even think about wasting my time on you is beyond me."

Dagerly had heard enough. "No more of your taunting, foul thing. You hold something you aren't entitled to, and we're here to take it back."

"Ha ha, you speak of entitlement; what makes you so sure that _you're_ entitled to them?"

"Absolutely nothing, because we aren't. They deserve their freedom," Dagerly said.

The demon sneered down at him."You contradict yourself. You say you've come to take your friend and that meddlesome priestess back, and then you speak of freedom. And even if it is the latter, why fight and endanger your life for something that doesn't belong to you in the first place? It's pure nonsense."

"No. Not nonsense. They would do it for us," Aeriah stepped forward and spoke.

"Oh really? Are you sure of that?" the demon sneered wickedly. "I've seen into their minds. They'd sooner save themselves then bother with you. You all are tools to the mage's gains. Your precious friend is a glory hound."

The demon's jeering began to take root, but still Dagerly didn't want to believe it. "That's where you're wrong, demon. Simonee is a noble man who strives for bettering the world while he is still able."

"Exactly. Looking for more reputation, for that next thrill in order to gain notoriety."

"Enough, I said," Dagerly groaned, tired of hearing the screeched tripe of the demon. "Please, release Simonee and Sira, or we'll be pushed to take their freedom by force."

"You and whose army, little man?" the demon cackled again. "All I see are five puny adventurers. You'd better find some help or you might find some trouble instead!"

"That won't stop us from trying," Krionoso called. "I won't allow you to possess anyone else; not after what you did to me."

"Well then come, fools, and find your fate!"

* * *

Simonee and Sira sat in the center of the vast crystal chamber, channeling the incantation.

"It's beginning," Sira began, not breaking her concentration. "We must hurry."

The search so far had proven fruitless for the two, who had been unable to find the correct arcane signature to free them after so many tried combinations. A few had shown much promise, but in the end had turned out to be mere dead ends. Simonee feared that they wouldn't be able to find it before his friends were destroyed by whatever monstrosity the demon had proven to be.

At first, he had been overwhelmed by this new side of the crystal walls, flowing with arcane runes that skittered ever so close to the surface, yet not quite touching. The blindingly white runes circled the room and oftentimes transformed into other runes – some more intricate, some less so – and provided Simonee with a look into a new world that he had never seen before, or at least not in full detail; a world totally unknown but to those in touch with the arcane. Yet now, he found himself more used to the sight, his eyes focusing from behind their lids to search for the distinct runes that would allow him and Sira escape from the demon's clutches. It really was a wondrous sight, something that Simonee didn't think could be matched in Azeroth.

The runes, however, had given him something to think about.

"If these are full of arcane energy," he stated, "why couldn't we extract the power and harness it for use?"

Her own eyes remaining shut, Sira replied, "Have you ever heard of the Lich King, the one-time prince of Lordaeron itself?"

Simonee shuddered at the name. "Yes..." he whispered. Visions of his time in Quel'Thalas played across his eyelids, halting at the vision of the haunted and crazed Arthas, still not the Lich King yet.

"Then you know that at one point in time, he was a death knight, under that fool warlock Ner'Zhul."

"Yes, but what does this have to do with my question?" Simonee asked, impatient to find what Sira was leading to.

"You see, the groundwork for any death knight's spells are these very runes, or more accurately, the runes pulled from the death knight's environment. That is how they are able to wreak such destruction across the land, just by passing by. It is a terrible practice to use them for personal gain, and very foolish. I suggest you don't even try it, lest you be put on that same evil pedestal of Arthas himself and lose all threads of sanity."

Another thought pressed its way into Simonee's mind: "Sira... how do you know all of this? How are you so in tune with the arcane, and how have you gained all of this knowledge of the death knights?"

"Those," Sira said, a slightly dangerous and hurt tone playing in her voice, "are questions best left for less urgent times, lad."

As Simonee began to open his mouth again to try and persuade the priestess to share her knowledge, runes from each wall of the crystalline room began to glow even more intensely and came together, forming a string of an ancient, unintelligible language, still blinding to the core. Simonee's mind was forced to realization almost immediately – this was it! The signature that they had been looking for! Finally opening his eyes, he felt the sheer amount of power flowing from one end of the string of runes through him and into the other end, forming a sort of circle of arcane power. Keeping Sira's advice in mind, Simonee simply allowed the power to flow until finally, a rift began forming between himself and the priestess. Within moments, the rift began to grow larger and larger, until it finally became a fully-fledged portal that would lead outside. Or so Simonee assumed.

"Quickly, through the portal. It'll only last for a few moments unanchored," Sira announced.

Reaching one hand through the portal, the mage eventually moved in, completely enveloped by the runes' glowing white power. Stunned for a few moments afterward, Simonee rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. Soon enough, his vision cleared and he was able to assess the situation around him. What he saw was his friends holding the demon off as she tried to crush them under hoof. A brief flash of white beside him alerted him to Sira's return to the outside world.

"I have formulated a plan," she said, stoically as ever, "I shall broadcast it into everyone's minds, in order to refrain from repeating myself."

"Everyone? Don't you think it would be unwise to tell the demon the plan?" Simonee asked, looking at the priestess quizzically.

"Young mage, do not assume me to be such a fool. I have lived through much more than you would know, and I would appreciate it if you trusted my good judgment."

Nodding, Simonee stood from his kneel, put off by Sira's scolding.

"_Everyone, pay attention as best you can,"_ she began, telepathically. _"You must hold her attention while I work on trapping her within the crystal. She will likely be drawn to me immediately, so I suggest being on your guard. I will begin once your leader rejoins you."_

Taking that as his cue to begin joining the fight, Simonee ran towards where the fight was taking place, right outside of what was left of Sira's humble abode. He knew there was no way they could have both signaled acknowledgment and maintain attention on what they were trying to do to the demon, so he took it on good faith that they had understood as he started to cast a fireball at the monstrous demon.

As he did, he began to think of his previous assumptions on the demon. For one, it was much larger than he anticipated, even though he knew he should have known better than to underestimate. His group had deftly been avoiding being trampled beneath the massive hooves of the demon while juggling that and trying to attack at the same time. He could already tell that they were feeling more than simple traces of exhaustion, forcing him to wonder how long they had been keeping it at bay. The mages had been casting spells with less and less frequency, Dagerly's knives were noticeably slower, and Garret's strikes became weaker with each one he attempted. Emboldened by the sight, Simonee became more acutely aware of the limits on his mind; more accurately how they were beginning to expand, powered by the will to help his group. His casts became quickened, his mind raced through the spells, and he could feel some strange innate arcane power flowing through his veins.

"Glad to have you back!" Dagerly called, trying to quicken his strikes in vain just before rolling out of the way of one of the demon's kicks. Krionoso hadn't been so lucky, as when the leg came swinging back, he was caught off guard and was sent flying backwards, lying dazed for a few moments before reentering the battle with the help of Garret.

"What is this?" the demon howled as fireballs and frostbolts pelted it's thick hide. "I thought you were locked away! You couldn't possibly have escaped!"

Dagerly dodged another kick, and Krionoso paid more attention to the follow-through as Simonee replied, "You may have thought that, _demon_, but you have been proven false. Now you'll be facing judgment for what you've done. To me, to Krionoso, to everyone. YOU will bear the price for the Legion's crimes!"

He continued casting through his speech, feeling his fiery passion reflected in his spells. "And when we find your masters, they will know as well the pain, the suffering, and the humiliation just as you have!"

The group was also feeling it as their spirits rose. Dagerly once again struck out with his knives at blinding speed, Garret's hammer forced the cracks in the demon's hooves, and Krionoso and Aubs both cast with renewed vigor. Overflowing with anger, Simonee called, "The hour of your end draws near, and with it, the Legion's. Make peace with yourself and whatever other grotesque monstrosity you call colleagues, for now is the only time you'll have!"

The demon bellowed through the renewed attacks against it, laughing. "You may think you'll succeed, when really you're only a minor thorn in our sides. This, all of this, is nothing, compared to the true might of the Burning Legion!"

"That may be so, but we _will_ succeed. Of that you can be sure," Simonee called, conjuring fireballs the size of massive boulders.

Meanwhile, Sira had already began her incantation to trap the demon within its own crystal prison. It had taken longer than she had been expecting, having had no help in the casting, and due to the demon's immense size, but still she pressed on; although at the same time, hearing Simonee's defiance against his enemy had also forced Sira's spell to take on haste, lessening the full force of what she was trying to do. Of course, it was not easy, being that the spell's target was so powerfully tied to the arcane. The length it would take to bind the spell depended solely on that measure, and at this rate, it would take a few more minutes. If the group could hold on that long.

Simonee was absolutely sure that the demon knew something was amiss with the situation, although was unable to act on it, being pestered by the lesser beings surrounding it. Everyone was doing more than their part to keep its attention off of Sira and her spell, but it was gradually becoming more allured to the massive amount of power being fed into it. Simonee hoped it wouldn't take much longer for the spell to be bound, for he was feeling the added strength beginning to fade from him.

Almost as soon as he thought that, the demon stopped attacking, stating in her screech of a voice, "You all are fools for even thinking you could possibly defeat me, but in the case that you _do_ succeed, I will not be the only one to be finished today!"

The demon had cast a spell, the target unknown. Nobody seemed to be affected, yet at the same time, everyone knew that something was not right. Not a second after the spell had been placed, realization dawned, and that came from a fireball nearly blasting into Krionoso.

"What in the world?" he shouted, jumping back on instinct.

Everyone looked toward Simonee. In his eyes were an evil glare, darkened by a condescending sneer.

"Now then..." he said, his voice mutilated into two separate tones, "who among you is brave enough to attack your precious mage?"

It was obvious that he was under the demon's control, but no one dared move even an inch toward him, afraid of what the demon was capable of. That was, until a fireball came screaming to the ground before him, as much a surprise attack as the one launched on Krionoso, who now had gained a mischievous look, smirking at his counterpart. The fireball had blasted a clearly defined hole in the ground, charring the cobblestone black where it had impacted against it. Simonee was sent flying backwards, landing deftly on his feet a few paces from where he had been standing.

"What have we here?" he asked, a smile taking over, "A taker?"

"I told you already. I will not allow you to possess anyone anymore. The manipulation ends here," Krionoso said, preparing himself for another fight against his friend.

"Well then, fool, you are the first to go!"

Another fireball grazed past Krionoso's face, slightly singeing the skin before raging into one of the decrepit buildings behind him.

"Your aim is a little off!" he taunted, smiling and beginning to burst into a sprint into a nearby street. The possessed Simonee followed, angered at the mage's insolence.

Sira watched as the events unfolded. While glad that she wouldn't have to worry about the demon interfering with the spell, she was worried about both Krionoso and Simonee. She couldn't help but feel she should have seen it coming, blinded by her ambition to get the demon into the crystal as soon as possible.

Dagerly was deeply confused as to why Krionoso decided to start leading Simonee through the streets of Dalaran, but decided not to make much of it. Now was the group's best opportunity to begin actually doing damage to the demon, unfettered by its flailing attempts to swat them away.

Meanwhile, Krionoso dodged and weaved through side streets and sidestepped around corners in his vaguely planned attempt to get the demon away from the group. He was in a big rush to go nowhere in particular while Simonee followed under control of the demon, casting spells every now and then during the chase. Wind lashed out at Krionoso's face, his hair blinding him with the sweat pouring from his forehead as he ran. He wouldn't last much longer; if the fight with the demon's true form was exhausting, then this was doubly so.

Molten metal seemed to be flaming down his legs, as if his muscles were becoming branded. His legs became heavier with each step. His lungs were burning. He began to slow down. This wasn't looking good.

No.

He had to push. If he could make it last just a few moments more, maybe the spell would be complete and Simonee would be back to normal.

With the last push, however, came a memory.

_Krionoso was running through the streets of Dalaran. Simonee was right behind him, readying a Fireblast spell and throwing it at him. Krionoso dodged at last minute and one of the pillars beside him exploded in flame, pelting Simonee in marble shards as he ran. He cursed as the shards bit into him, but Krionoso didn't give thought to that. He simply ran. _

Oh no. Not that. Anything but that.

Just as the thought forced its way in, Krionoso saw as a carved pillar shattered, sending the pellets flying everywhere. He had made it through unscathed, but as he looked behind him, he saw as Simonee burst through the cloud of marbled pebbles, bloodied and bruised, calling a curse in the demonic dual-tone.

Continuing to run at a faster pace just to try and outdo his premonition, Krionoso burst down another side street, narrowly avoiding being roasted by another fireball. Panting heavily, he stumbled on a few large pieces of debris that had been left in the street, taking a fast glance behind him to check Simonee's progress. When he looked forward again, something had happened. He fell, landing nearly face-first into a small pile of glass.

_It wasn't long before Simonee finally hit him. A Fireball incinerated Krionoso's left foot off and he had fallen with a yell of pain and surprise. Krionoso was looking up at Simonee as he charged a massive Pyroblast between his hands. Simonee's look of hatred forced Krionoso's blood cold._

"I gave you a chance to survive, _mage_. But you insisted on being a pest, and now look where it's gotten you!" the demon shouted through Simonee. "Now it's time to end this business."

The roiling fires between Simonee's hands spelled certain doom. Even if it wasn't him in control, Krionoso paled at the thought that he would be killed by a friend; someone who had been there for him.

"_**TRAITOR!!"**_

The words came from the demon, and within his own conscience, Krionoso found that the utterance had sounded as if everyone had said it at the same time. Those he betrayed, those who had found his redemption, and those that sought retribution – the whole group. Dince, who now lay buried underneath the earth outside of Stormwind alongside Akall. Garret, who had been a friend since that day in Ashenvale. Dagerly, Simonee and Aeriah, the three that had seen the original promise in him, and Aubs, who now he knew was his sister. Even Hoardale, whom he didn't have the pleasure of knowing, had joined in.

He wouldn't die like this; not without a fight. There were too many people who truly cared for him for him just to give up.

"_**NO!" **_he defiantly roared back. "I am NOT a traitor! Simonee, break her control. I know you can do it; you are not powerless! Fight it and win. If not for me, then for yourself! You don't deserve for this to remain on your conscience. Trust me, I have been there, and it is a dark path that I wish on no one else!"

The fires continued to gain in strength within Simonee's hands, as Krionoso continued to try and break through the demon's iron will.

"Simonee, fight, damn you!" he shouted, tears forming at the corner of his eyes. "Just... fight."

Suddenly, the heat from the fires had felt closer, and Krionoso knew that he had failed to reach out to Simonee. Instinctively, he raised his hands out in front of his face, loosing a fire blast that he hadn't known he had been storing.

A rumble. The feeling of the destructive flame. The torturous silence as it burned. All sound faded; all feeling followed. The world went black.


	18. Chapter 17: Absolution

A/N: Wait, wait, wait… you can't be serious. I'm actually _updating_ this? I must be insane. Well, sane or not, here is long (and unfortunately, I _DO_ mean LONG.) awaited chapter sixteen. I wrote it shortly after my last update, but certain things held me up from being able to type it – not the least of which being the death of my old computer and the rush to try and get a new one – but fear not! I finally mustered what I could to give this to you, and, well, here it is. Thank you all for waiting, your patience really has inspired me, and without further ado, Trial by Fire, chapter seventeen, Absolution.

**Trial by Fire**

**Chapter Seventeen: Absolution**

Flames roiled high in the sky over the distant horizon, clearing the decrepit roofs of the ghost town, accompanied by deep, thunderous shocks rumbling through the ground beneath Dagerly's ever-tiring feet. In the same instant, Dagerly found himself worrying about the fates of Simonee and Krionoso. Something obviously wasn't right, but not being able to know the extent of it was tugging at the edges of the rogue's mind, even though he knew it would be fatal to take his mind off of the task at hand. And, of course, he doubted he _could_ even think much on the matter, with the massive demon still fixated on massacring him under-hoof.

It had seem as though directly after Krionoso took Simonee out of the demon's line of sight – however impossibly wide that may have been – it had begun to attack again, more vigorously than it had been before. It was all Dagerly could do to avoid being stomped into a wet, pulpy mass while continuing to hold its attention. Sira was still, after all, continuing her seemingly-random incantations for the spell to send the monster back wherever it had spawned from, and it wouldn't do well at all to have her be smashed and lose all hope of ever defeating the damned thing. The situation was grim, but still Dagerly fought on.

As well did the others – Garret still tried to mash his mace into the dense, bony hooves repeatedly, and the rogue swore he could see cracks widening from where it had continually made contact; while Aubs and Aeriah continued firing spell after spell after spell at the target. Aubs' frostbolts were hardly making any effect on the demon, while Aeriah's condensed wrath was having considerable success in comparison. But, even still, the demon shrugged it all off as if it was all merely flies to be swatted. Meanwhile, the demon's own attacks weren't having any success at all. After having stomped the entire area flat as bedrock, her hooves found no satisfaction through crunching bone or tearing flesh, instead meeting with hard-packed cobblestone again and again, each time splitting the stone into smaller and smaller fragments – some of which lodging themselves in the cracked surfaces of the ebony bone-like material.

But, for all of its trying, Dagerly still managed to avoid his death, sometimes miraculously, to continue the fight and hope to the Light that Sira could finish her spell before he finally _was_ smashed to bits.

He also knew that the state of his daggers was failing. Sooner or later, they would be too dull to do _anything_, even though at the moment, they weren't doing anything against the tough, scaly hide anyway. So with the state of things the way they were, Dagerly continued fighting; fighting for what he believed in, for the people he cared about, and most of all, the defense of Azeroth. If the Legion was allowed to run rampant through the world, then what future did the races inhabiting it have? Most likely, it would be one of torture, destruction, and general unpleasantness, if history served correctly – if there was one in the first place.

Grunting fairly audibly, Dagerly rolled out of the way of another attack, keeping up with his long string of lucky escapes. He came to his feet again, finding himself face-to-calf with the demon. Seizing what small opportunity he had allotted himself, he thrust both daggers viciously into the soft and fleshy area just behind the knee. The roar that had come next nearly deafened anyone within a mile of it – a howl so terrible that it could have potentially scared off even the toughest of monsters lurking. The demon's unnaturally green blood began running down the short length of his blades, its nearly-corrosive properties seeping deep into the steel as it threatened to creep down the hilts and past the pommels. Luckily for the rogue, the demon decided just then to lift its leg high in the air to crush the impudent insect that had attached to it, taking Dagerly – still, in turn, attached to his daggers – with it. Risking a look up, he was met with the hatred inherent behind brightly glowing fel-green eyes.

"Insolent little swine!" it called in its screech, grating to the ears of anyone close, "I'll crush you _all_!"

In the brief few moments separating the time Dagerly spent dangling from his daggers from the demon's leg and the time said leg was swiftly brought down to earth again, the rogue took the initiative to look just above the rooftops, trying to steal a glance at what had happened to Simonee and Krionoso, only to be met with the sight of the ever-deepening black smoke lifting itself up into the atmosphere on warm currents. Then, quickly, inescapably, his world was turned almost literally upside-down. The force of the powerfully-muscled limb crushing downward sent Dagerly upended, barely hanging on. It became too much, however, and three-quarters of the way down, his grip gave out and he was sent to finish his flight solo and weaponless. When he made contact with the ground, he was majorly disoriented, but alive nonetheless.

Standing up on wobbly and shaky legs, the rogue risked a small, askew look at the group. So far as he could tell, they were all well and alive, even if there were five of each of them. Shaking his head to clear his vision and hopefully some of his vertigo, Dagerly focused again. The demon had not cared to make sure he was okay before continuing the fight, and as such, had already primed a kick aimed in his direction. Unable to dodge in time, Dagerly was sent reeling towards Sira and her spell, missing her by mere feet.

Still disoriented, he lied there a second and tried again to refocus. While there, however, he asked, "How long?"

With a sort of derisive smirk, Sira replied, "A few more moments. You're doing well, just keep it up. I'll let you know when it's ready."

"Okay, then."

Dizzy from what was likely a concussion, the rogue stood and walked unsteadily back to the fight.

Meanwhile, Aeriah had become the demon's next target of choice, and as such, was running around as it began to attack him with the same ferociousness it had shown his friend. The night elf underwent the wickedly painful transition into the black lynx in what had to be record time, transforming on the run, and somehow, not even missing a step. With the new speed afforded him by the tightly-wound muscles of the cat, he began rushing in laps around his assailant, disorienting her briefly while Dagerly could recuperate some and return to the action.

It didn't take nearly as long for the rogue to return as he may have thought it was, but it _had_ been almost a minute before he could find something to begin attacking with again. What he found was a stick lying against the stark white cobblestone dust ground down by the demon's hooves. Not the best of weapons, but he supposed it would do for now.

"Hey you!" he called shakily. By the time his target had noticed he was still standing, he nearly wasn't.

"Persistence is your downfall," it remarked, shooting a sneer in his direction. "Look at you. You're barely in any shape to walk, and yet you _still_ challenge me? Foolish; simply foolish."

Rather than spare any more energy trying to come up with words to throw at the demon, Dagerly resorted to rushing head-first into combat with his stick poised to strike. Somehow, he managed not to be hit again by its flailing legs, even coming to be in range of taking his daggers back. Vaulting himself deftly in the air, using the stick to gain him clearance above the ground, he took firm hold of both hilts, managed a defined and agonizing _twist_, and listened to the demon spout another tortured scream as he wrenched the barbed blades clear of the tainted flesh.

"Maybe foolish. Oh well," he said, tired, in pain, and rather muddled.

While he doubted the demon could hear it over its own commotion, it still satisfied his own conscience. Turning around to inspect the extent of his damage, he noticed also the stick he had used. It remained standing almost straight up, stuck in the sad remains of the cobble. How he had managed to do something so… incredible was beyond him completely. He also watched as the demon brought its hoof down on the stick, right into the fleshy inner part. Again it howled and screeched, and the rogue – along with the rest of the group – was forced to cover their ears with their hands, although it wasn't even close to being enough to drown out the absolutely horrendous noises being made.

Taking his eyes briefly off of the demon to look at Sira's progress, Dagerly noticed her looking directly at him.

"_It is time," _she said, nodding slowly at him. He knew what to do from there.

Taking a pitiful stone from the ground, he aimed as best he could with his blurred vision at the demon – which, even in his sad state, would be hard to miss – and hurled it with all of his remaining strength. The rock made contact with the demon's scaled chest, which was just enough to garner some of its attention to him.

"Bet you can't catch me," he called, including a taunting gesture for good measure.

The demon roared deafeningly and started after the rogue, who had begun running toward the priestess. Sprinting as quickly as he could muster his muscles to go, he fought against the molten blood rushing through his veins and weighing his legs down to make it close enough to Sira to make it count.

Turning his head back to face the demon, which was coming frightfully close now, he shot it a triumphant smile as it simply sneered. "What's the matter? Can't crush the insolent little swine?"

The demon enraged further, gathering more speed with its built-up frustrations. It was coming down to the wire. Dagerly had a lead of only a few yards, with the demon encroaching quickly on him. Sira was still a bit away, meaning Dagerly had to either pick up the pace or fail miserably. Focusing intently on making it to the priestess, he had almost missed the black spot at the edge of his already-marred vision. Looking to his right, he noticed Aeriah rushing alongside him, sleek black fur and all.

"I'll take care of this. Go find somewhere to rest," the druid called, as best he could with a cat's enormous fangs. Dagerly, rather than argue, split off and ran to the side, wheezing as the demon passed him by in feverish pursuit of Aeriah.

Aeriah was faring much better at keeping the demon at bay than Dagerly had been, and had no problems in getting to Sira first. The pursuer lumbered behind him, but before it could reach him, it had become arrested in movement, unable to fulfill its wish to crush the druid.

"What is this magic?!" it called out, furious.

"Funny. I should like to think you would know what this magic was, _demon_," Sira replied, gaining a defiant note in her voice.

"Ah, priestess; I trust you enjoyed your stay, then? It must mean you're willing to return."

"I'm terribly sorry, but there's no chance of that happening." Sira then produced something from a pouch at her side. Slowly it rose, glinting fairly in the sunlight of the afternoon. Dagerly couldn't quite tell what it was, but he already knew it was important if Sira was so sure of her words.

"What? How could you have..?"

"You have proven to be very careless. It wasn't exactly the hardest thing to return my crystal to me. But, that is quite enough banter. It is time you returned to wherever your hellish kind came from."

Sira began once more to recite her incantation, but was briefly interrupted by the strangest of things. A burst of Light played over the horizon, blinding in nature, as it seemed to engulf the entire city of Dalaran. Just as soon as it started, however, it had receded to where Dagerly remembered the column of smoke emanating from. After a moment's pause, Sira yet again continued her spell, seemingly undaunted by the brief conflagration beyond the initial surprise. Another burst of Light, this time coming from where the demon was, and then nothing.

* * *

The street literally looked like something close to Hell. Everything that could catch on fire had, with the possible exception of the few patches of smoldering deadwood. As the fire spread, a deep red light settled in around the area of the street. Debris littered the place – a few blackened stones here, some splintered wood there – and a charred ring took dominant hold of the middle of it all. In the middle of the ring, there was a small, dug in enclave. Inside of that lay Krionoso.

The mage grumbled, pain wracking everything he did or tried doing. He felt as if he had been crushed by a fel reaver and then blasted with a spout of hellfire. In his eyes, it had to have been by the Light's blessing that he wasn't dead. Not that he would survive much longer without some help, he knew; and with his condition the way _it_ was, he could only hope for Simonee's health.

Krionoso's skin was charred black in places from the searing flames caused by his and Simonee's altercation, his robes tattered and cindering. If he even _tried_ to move, he was set upon by the most horrid pain. He was stuck here – all he could do was sit and wait. For what he was waiting, though, he didn't have a clue. So while he waited, he gently shifted here and there, trying to make himself as comfortable as he possibly could, given the current circumstances.

Mostly, he had been thinking about what happened to Simonee. From what he remembered, neither spell actually made contact with their target; instead, they had met in mid-flight, and burst in a storm of fiery arcane, forming a massive column caused by the sheer power behind them. From that, memories were fuzzy. He remembered being forced into the small enclave by the explosion, but that was about all he could really see. Simonee was stuck inside the fire storm, but the extent of the damage was only speculation. Then the entire blaze ended and left with him the sight he currently enjoyed; bleak crimson heat.

Krionoso carefully stole a small look at his severed and seared leg; it had already been mostly sealed through cauterization, but in some places, blood oozed lazily from the wound. At first, it had pained him like nothing else, but eventually, the nerves became numb and unresponsive. Even still, he was afraid to move it – rather, what was left of it.

Shifting ever-so-slightly in his small enclave, Krionoso looked around for any sign of Simonee. A pile of rocks stood chest-high (if he'd been standing) directly in front of him, and that was the only distinctive mark until the char on the road ended. Using his reasoning to deduct that Simonee was indeed in the rocks, the question then became, alive or dead? If he was alive, how seriously injured? Letting the matter go, simply for a lack of a way to get anything done in the state he was in, he closed his eyes and rested.

Not long after he had done so, he heard a faint crackling – something close to lightning. Krionoso was too interested to ignore the sound. It meant that his friend was possibly alive, and actively trying to get out. Moving through the pain of his blistered and burnt elbows, he raised himself up onto his forearms to gain a better look, if there was one to gain. The electric sound grew more intense as he did so, and as he saw with his higher vantage point, a light had accompanied the sound. It wasn't the red light, but rather, pure white Light. Feeling slight _thumps_ of power reverberate through the ground, Krionoso noticed as everything grew more intense. The Light became almost blinding, now covering the entire pile of rubble; the static noise became close to deafening, and the thumping became deep rumbles. Sliding back down into his enclave, Krionoso tried to cover his eyes as quickly as he could with his wounds, just in time to feel the power reach a climax. The rocks blew apart from each other forcefully, some supernatural power simply having its way with them, as the Light blazed one final time, radiant and glorious. The static disappeared behind the pure noise of the explosion, and the rumbling as well blended in.

Krionoso only dared removing his hands from his face after he was absolutely sure that everything had blown over. There was no _thump_, there was no brilliance, and there was no electricity. Everything was as calm as it had been; even the heavy red settled back in – everywhere, that is, except for where the rocks had occupied only moments ago.

Krionoso saw it, but simply couldn't believe it. There, noticeably _floating_ above the ground was Simonee. But, instead of the fiery orange robes he had been wearing, there was now flowing golden and white vestments loosely hanging from his shoulders. His blue eyes had been replaced by orbs of what seemed to be pure silver light. It was Simonee, yet… it simply _wasn't_.

Krionoso, astonished, watched with a keen eye as Simonee lowered to the ground, the Light coursing through him palpably. It visibly radiated with a dull sheen over him. Simply thunderstruck, Krionoso found himself speechless, muttering incoherent and half-formed thoughts.

Walking lightly over the surface of the ground, deliberate as it was, Simonee began moving toward Krionoso, still stammering to find the right words.

"**Relax,**" came the monosyllabic command from at least sixteen different angelic voices, lying beneath Simonee's own. It was smooth, calming. The very word was laced with power.

The pain Krionoso had been in was completely dissipating with the adrenaline-filled excitement he felt at seeing his friend, somehow alive. Finding his mind soothed by the mere word, he ceased his frantic search for words. Soon enough, Simonee was right beside him, kneeling.

"**Stay still.**"

Filled now with the urge to do nothing, Krionoso complied wordlessly as Simonee placed his left hand on the mage's shoulder. Energy, pure and fluid, coursed into Krionoso, relaxing his muscles and relieving his pains. His burns all disappeared into newly-formed flesh. His severed leg knit itself into a whole from seemingly thin air. A gentle warmth, separate, yet still kin to the oppressive fire around him, accompanied the healing energy. It felt like what Krionoso would call 'bliss'. Still in awe, all Krionoso could come up with to say was a simple 'thank you'.

"**I cannot operate under this strain for much longer; I must be quick. Take this pendant and gather your sister,**" Simonee told him, handing him an object, light and shining. "**You will know what to do with it in time. But for now, I must leave you. May the Light be with you, Krionoso.**"

Krionoso was, to put it simply, flabbergasted, and bursting with questions, all of them going unanswered. The radiant power that had emanated from Simonee faded from existence, the silvery glow following. His eyes became the normal electric blue, his robes bled back into orange, and all seemed to be normal. That is, until he collapsed to the ground, either exhausted or dead. With no way of knowing, Krionoso stood and prepared himself. Testing his new leg by putting his full weight on it, Krionoso was pleased that it felt just as it should, or maybe even better. Satisfied by the results, he set about bringing Simonee back to the group. Looping one arm around the back of his neck and draping it in front of his left shoulder, Krionoso began dragging the limp and unresponsive body of Simonee back to Sira. She would want to know about this.

* * *

A/N: Is Simonee dead? Is he alive? All should – I repeat, SHOULD – be revealed next chapter. Oh, and as I'm posting to my profile, tomorrow is this story's birthday! Happy birthday, _Trial_. I hope that you've enjoyed reading this as much as I've enjoyed writing it, and with all sincere apologies for the tardiness of the update, as always I leave you with the simple words;

Be Happy - Python


	19. Chapter 18: Histories

**Trial by Fire**

**Chapter Eighteen: Histories**

Quite simply put, Dagerly had a terrible headache. Mere minutes after the demon had finally been defeated, the adrenaline that had been fueling him had faded, leaving him with pains everywhere. Most especially, his concussed head; and the worst thing was that Sira was completely drained after the immense spell she had used to contain the demon. According to her, it didn't actually just send the foul thing elsewhere – the spell also locked it there. Dagerly didn't understand it; nor did he even try. It was probably best left to those that knew what they were doing in the first place. All he knew was that he wasn't going to get his head relieved any time soon.

So, the rogue sat and rested, rubbing his pained head gingerly so as to not aggravate the inflamed feeling it emanated. His vision, he was only too glad to note, had gotten better with time – if only he could clear the butterflies from his sight.

As for the rest of the group, the mood was somber in spite of the massive victory they had just achieved. First and foremost in their minds was the question of what had become of Simonee and Krionoso. They had doubtlessly seen the smoke rising over the horizon, and felt the rumbling of the ground. It was almost impossible not to have.

Dagerly lied back and simply watched the sky, as cloud formations floated blithely through it with the apparent lightness of feathers. He continued this lazy watchfulness quietly, for what seemed like hours, until someone – he couldn't quite see who – called out.

"Krionoso!"

It had been Aubs' voice that shouted above the silence, excited to see her brother make it out of the conflagration across the way. She also took wary note of Simonee, weakly clinging to his shoulder.

"What happened?" she asked when she reached his side, helping him carry Simonee the rest of the way over to Sira.

Krionoso thought twice about divulging the whole of his story at that moment, opting to reply with a grunt.

Aubs nodded in the priestess' direction, both acknowledging her brother's silence and their direction, and shifting Simonee's weight in the process. The siblings carefully pulled their friend to Sira, who was resting with a small flask of water in her hand, courtesy of Aubs.

During their slow walk over, Dagerly had sat up from his small time of reverie and watched them instead, as they carried Simonee.

Relieved to see Krionoso alive and well, but deeply worried to see Simonee in the state he was in, Dagerly tried listening in on the conversation Krionoso and Sira were having, to no avail. The hushed tones didn't quite carry completely over to him, and he was left to overhear ominous fragments of the details. But, although he couldn't eavesdrop, he was quite content with at least knowing Simonee wasn't dead – or at least not mostly. Now he could rest and possibly go to sleep and try and relieve his aching head. Whatever Simonee's problem was, he was absolutely sure Sira could fix it.

So, with a pounding migraine, Dagerly closed his eyes and was pleased to catch his first small bit of sleep in days, right there where the cobblestones, smashed and chipped, met the soft and warm spring grass.

* * *

It had to have been hours later; a brilliant orange light filtered through the small window, allowing Krionoso to see the contents of his room. Not to say that he actually had much at all to look at. A dresser across from the bed, a small chest of his belongings from his time living in Dalaran, and a wardrobe was about all the room boasted. All of his packs were lying in a small heap beside the bed, half open, yet the contents were concealed.

But, with twilight settling in, his room wasn't quite what had him worried. After bringing Simonee back to the group, Sira had told him that both she and Simonee would need to rest before anything could really be solved. Krionoso was hoping simply that rest would bring Simonee out of whatever trance he was in. He was most definitely alive – confirmed by Sira – but the hope was only half-hearted. The other, more likely option was that once Sira regained enough of her strength, she would be able to take Simonee out of his coma herself, with the aid of the Light.

Either way, it now became a waiting game.

To pass the time, Krionoso had been talking to his friends. Even Dagerly, who had been continuing to recover from being mule-kicked clear across Dalaran. He also began thinking about the pendant and what it meant, or what it was used for. More importantly, he thought about why Simonee gave it to him. It would certainly be better in someone else's hand, Krionoso lamented.

But, for the most part, Krionoso spent his days sleeping and recuperating. The confrontation with the demon had completely sapped everyone of their strength and rest was really the best option for any of them.

For entertainment during their resting time, they had history. Sira had begun opening up her memories and relating them as stories to her houseguests.

One story in particular held Krionoso's interests.

It was a mildly depressing day; the sun had been blanketed and hidden behind the mask of a multitude of wispily thin and grey clouds. It hadn't started raining yet, but everyone knew it would only be a matter of time.

Everyone had congregated (minus Simonee, who continued to recover in his coma) in the dining room, listening to Sira speak over a mug of still-steaming tea. At first, she had been speaking of what she knew about the founding of Dalaran, but eventually, it morphed into a tale of her own past.

"I was young; probably not even ten seasons old, when my family was called to visit Dalaran. No one really knew what the Kirin Tor wanted with us, but we packed our belongings and moved anyway, thinking that it was most likely something rather important. The trip here, dragging with us two horses, a dwelling's worth of items, and the three of us, took almost an entire summer, coming from Stormwind with minimal stops.

"Once we arrived here, though, it was so spectacular, so new. I was overwhelmed by sheer awe. The people were so friendly and courteous, and the sights were truly beautiful to behold. We were given a place to live, more than enough rations to sustain ourselves comfortably, and mother and father were given satisfying work around the city; it was lovely indeed."

Stopping her narration briefly to ask if anyone needed or wanted their tea refilled, to a chorus of declinations – everyone was too interested in the story, and hadn't even touched their original drinks to begin with. After the minor interruption, though, she continued.

"We were finally able to learn the reason for our summons to Dalaran, nearly a month after our arrival. I was to be trained as a mage, taught by the Kirin Tor themselves."

"But," interrupted Krionoso, "if you were trained as a mage, why did you become a priestess?"

"Be patient; I am, and will be, getting to that. Anyway, my training commenced, and continued for years and years, and through that training, I found the man who would become my husband. You see, he was an eccentric man, and very studious. He wanted to know everything there was to know about magic, and I admired him deeply for it. His name was Erylian.

"Eventually, our passion grew stronger, and we married. I ended my training and lent Erylian my complete support. In his quest for knowledge, he traveled nearly everywhere. In times when we found ourselves back in Stormwind, I would inquire about the priesthood. It had always interested me as a child, and I found that it may have been for the best to begin pursuing it again. Unfortunately for me, Erylian was constantly on the move, and every time I began to seek the knowledge of the Light, I was whisked away again to whatever locale we would be visiting next. Sometimes, we would stay out in the world for months on end, and on some nights… well, let's just say we explored our love. That's where you two come from," Sira said, motioning to Aubs and Krionoso.

"It wasn't long, however, until Erylian and I were called back to Dalaran; and only upon our return did we learn that Erylian had been chosen to join the select few in the position of 'Archmage'. Shortly after his induction – only two months later, to be precise – we had found young Simonee ambling, exhausted into the city, looking like naught but bare bones. He was, however, a resilient young man, and returned to health very soon. During his time there, we had learned that he was in one of the groups of young mages that had been sent to Quel'Thalas to be trained by the high elves there. He told his story to us, and that was when the outlook darkened for Dalaran – and quite literally, at that."

"The Scourge," Krionoso reflected darkly.

"Precisely. Every available citizen was called to take up arms against them, and being the stubborn man he was, Erylian joined the fight. I had no choice but to follow behind. I used my limited knowledge of the Light to do what I could, but everyone already knew that Dalaran would be overrun unless something was done to protect it.

"So, the leadership of the Kirin Tor, itself led by Rhonin, ordered a swift retreat into the city, where the mages would erect a shield to keep the Scourge out. The shield was a successful venture, and the Scourge, with Arthas at its ugly head, was balked. Erylian, however, did not want to end the battle in such a disgraced and rushed manner, so when the forces were marshaled to march on Mount Hyjal, he was among the first to arrive there.

"Before he left, though, he insisted that I stay behind and finish my training as a priestess. I wished to follow him; to protect him, but he wouldn't have any of it. So, as he rode away, I was left behind feeling nearly powerless. With nothing else available for me, I returned to Stormwind and learned what remained to be learned about the Light.

"It was there, during my training, that I learned about Erylian's death. His encampment put up more than a valiant defense, but they were overrun eventually by sheer numbers. They did their job, however, and the World Tree was successfully protected from Archimonde's assault."

Tears visibly welled up in Sira's eyes as she relived her story. The room was silent, save for the pattering rain that had only just started to fall against her living room window. The tea had run cold long ago, but no one even cared. All they thought about was Sira and her tale.

"In Erylian's absence," begain Sira again, "I finished my training and came back to Dalaran, and from then on, I've been here, watching an 'abandoned city'."

Krionoso blinked, surprised, and a shock of understanding flowed through him, finding its way to his expression. "What about that pendant Erylian's 'friend' gave you? The one you gave to Simonee?"

Showing the first smile in a long time, Sira regarded him. "So you've figured it out, then? The pendant's purpose?"

"I believe so… but I'm not quite sure. When Simonee was speaking to me after the explosion, he gave me the pendant and told me that I'd know what it was for in due time. Do you think that it's time?"

"Quite possibly so. Anyway, it's getting late," Sira said, and sure enough, darkness encroached on the city, visible through the den window. "Get some rest. Tomorrow I will see what I can do for Simonee, and we will collectively see about the pendant."

Krionoso and everyone present agreed, and they climbed the stairs, still mulling over everything they had learned that afternoon. Even still, Krionoso found it hard to find any rest, much less sleep. Both anxious and excited for the next day's planned events, all he found possible that night was to sit in his bed and think.

* * *

A/N: Okay, so it took quite a bit longer to get this out than I either expected or wanted, but it's here now, and thankfully so. Preparations for the end of my high school career abound, I'm not even going to promise anything anymore. So if the trend of me promising an update and giving nothing is true, then maybe if I don't promise, it'll happen faster. Who knows?

Anyway, thanks for all the kind patience, and thanks to Ikeris for the character Erylian. Now if only he'd update his own story for once. :\


	20. Chapter 19: Present

A/N: Surprise update aside, I'm here to tell you that I should be back into writing very soon, and updates will come along much quicker. I told you I was going to finish this story, and I'll be damned if I don't, so even if it takes one chapter at a time, you will see the end to it. Anyway, short and a little fluffy, here's chapter 19 of _Trial by Fire_.

**Trial by Fire**

**Chapter Nineteen: Present  
**

It was another sleepless night in Sira's abode. Krionoso's head was full of swirling images of his mother's past – _his_ past – after she recounted it the afternoon preceding. It was overwhelming, the amount of information that continued to work its way through his mind; he couldn't think about anything but his truthful origins... or his father. He had never actually seen his father, as he thought more on the subject. He had _heard_ of Erylian, of course, but hearing about him was one thing. Knowing he was his father was something completely different. Add to that Simonee's state, and his mind was a mess.

So the night wore on, Krionoso simply rolling back and forth in his bed restlessly as more silent investigations of his memories completed themselves like horses on a circuit. Unable to sleep, unable to think, all he could do was lie in wait for when things would calm down enough for him to make sense of anything. It was almost peaceful for him, with exception to lack of sleep, to come to terms with what he now knew was his family – his home. It had been so long since he had felt anything of the sort that he hadn't been able to compare the feeling to anything except for blissful thought. Then came the thoughts which reminded him of the fact he was trying to wrap his head around. The fact that the man he never personally met, his father, was dead. Nothing could really change that fact, and it pained him to know it.

Continuing to think, it was only a matter of time before Krionoso dozed off to sleep, yet still unable to fathom the kind of man Erylian was.

Outside, a figure bathed in the palest rays of moonlight rested in the boughs of a small tree, just barely sustaining his weight on top of its own. The figure's eyes had latched onto the sight of the decrepit Dalaran, one building in particular. In his thoughts, he played out the events he had planned out for years now, to be enacted after the sun rose above the horizon. It had been so long since he had last tasted what it meant to be in the company of friends, with so many enemies having been put behind him. It was his only hope that it would turn out to his expectations, but it was best to err on the side of caution. With a nod in the direction of the city, he closed his eyes and began to doze to the one word he feared most.

"_Soon..."_

* * *

The morning was announced briskly by the sun's bright luminescence shining through the windows in the bedroom Krionoso occupied. Having the light play across his face did quite well in waking the mage from his shallow dreaming state. With a slight groan, Krionoso sat up, rubbing his eyes to try and clear some of the grogginess he felt. Not finding much success in that route, he decided instead to stand and stretch, meeting with a bright ray of sun through the thin pane of glass separating his room from the elements.

Refreshed somewhat by the short time he spent sleeping, Krionoso found that his thoughts had finally slowed enough to where he could breathe without receiving five-thousand thoughts of how his father probably wasn't anymore, lying somewhere in the lush forests surrounding Mount Hyjal.

Satisfied with this, he exited his room and walked downstairs to find that everyone had already woken up, also noting that they had all been taken care of by Sira, with breakfast and tea served on the dining room table.

"Good morning," the old priestess cheerfully chirped, though he wasn't sure it was directed at him, more than just in his general direction.

Nevertheless, he repeated the phrase to her and took his place in between Dagerly and Aubs, the former still suffering from a slight headache and holding his upper body up with a palm to the forehead. Giving both a slight nod, he took a sip from the cup of tea Sira had waiting for him.

The air was thick, almost palpable, with anticipation flooding from everyone in the room. Today, Sira would do what she could to recover Simonee from whatever force that had simultaneously saved both his and Krionoso's lives. Everyone was eager to speak with their friend again, and learn what had happened from his point of view. Most of all, though, they wished to know all was well. The anxiety over if he was going to be okay had worried them all deeply. Sira, knowing well what was on everyone's mind had moved in clear view of all of them.

"I would like you all to understand that I cannot guarantee success, and that if I fail, Simonee could very well be in this state for days, weeks, maybe even months or years, but also know that he is still alive," she stated, all traces of airy happiness removed from her voice, replaced by determined calm. "While I work with him, I will need all of my concentration. Do whatever you like, but please, do not disturb me, or it will be a long time before I am able to try this again. Understood?"

The group solemnly nodded affirmation, and she began to walk to the stairs. Once she had ascended, Dagerly spoke up.

"So. What's the agenda, then?"

Thinking quickly, Krionoso took the small golden chain that held the pendant of the gauntleted hand holding a mace from his neck, holding it up so it reflected the sunlight from its many surfaces.

"We find the secret behind this," he said, a hint of excitement in his voice.

Looking almost concerned, Aubs said, "But we don't even have any leads on where to start... much less where to finish. How are we going to find out what it does?"

"One step at a time," Krionoso replied, eying the pendant closely as if it had any clues engraved in the side of the mallet. "If you remember, last night, Sira told us the story of how things came to be. So, if we pay enough attention to that, surely something will come up to cause us to find it."

"You're basing that on a whole lot of luck," spoke Dagerly, who had lifted his head from his hand in order to look more evenly at the mage. "What makes you sure that the story we heard last night will harbor clues, and if there are any, how will we know?"

"To answer your first question, when Sira gave us this pendant, she had told us it had come from a friend to her husband, who we now know is Erylian. Last night, she spoke much of Erylian, so through that we can dictate that somewhere in the story lies a point in the right direction as to where this puzzle will lead us. As for the second... I'm not sure how. But, you have to trust me. I know there's something we can use," Krionoso explained quickly, the excitement quickly rising in his voice.

After looking at the mage another moment or so, Dagerly decided that he wasn't completely insane.

"So again, where do we begin?" asked Aeriah, looking nearly as excited as Krionoso.

"Okay. First, we retell the story, little by little, and try to find something that way. If that doesn't work, we can begin to search outside for traces of anything important. If we find anything, we should try to look further into it until we find the information we need. Does this sound reasonable?" Krionoso asked.

Upon everyone's acceptance, he began to remember what had been said the night prior, analyzing it as he spoke.

Outside, the figure had come down from his perch in the small, sad-looking tree in order to begin making his way toward Dalaran. Every step of the way, one thought devoured at his mind.

"_No more soon. Now."_

* * *

A/N: I forgot how good it felt to spend some time writing. It's been awhile, but here's a small update for all of you pleasant folks. I'm planning to get back into writing more, now that I can actually say I've written a chapter for the story in the past few days or so, and the content is back into the front of my mind. I believe I can promise another update within a week or so, but give me time to get fully back into the swing of things. It's been a while, and I'm a little rusty. Next chapter is definitely going to be longer, but I had to break the block that was keeping me away from this, so you got a short one to tide you over until then.

With that said, I thank you for all of your patience and understanding, and I bid you Be Happy - Python


	21. Chapter 20: Futures

**Trial by Fire**

**Chapter Twenty: Futures**

Darkness.

Cold, unrelenting, expanseless.

Everywhere, complete and unbroken black.

Was this a dream, or was it something more real? Simonee couldn't tell up from down in this pitch dark confusion. The last thing he could remember completely was searing pain, radiating from every crevice in his body, and the vision of two spells colliding in mid-flight. He had lost all consciousness at that point, having been blasted away by the force of the combined magic, most likely landing unfavorably. A thrumming, throbbing... numbness... for lack of a better word had consumed him from that point on. The feeling threatened to overcome his entire being, had he not maintained vigilance throughout his scattered state of limbo. Whatever this was, he had to get out, and as quickly as he could possibly muster.

* * *

Night time was fast coming to a close, as the sun threatened to peek its rays over the distant horizon. The bent and broken figure who was taking note of this stretched its limbs to full capacity in an attempt to loosen the joints that were in constant danger of a twisted, living state of rigor mortis. With a slight pop, his frame shaking from the force of the relief, he finished his stretch and recollected his wits. Today was the day - the day he'd face one of his worst fears. It had been so long since he had seen any of this; the city, the sunrise, Lordamere Lake, but perhaps what he missed the most was her. The motivation for everything he had done, past and present, though he had only just remembered it.

The ghastly countenance he had only recently gotten used to betrayed his mixed feelings on his return, willingly or not. Trapped in a near-perpetual scowl, Erylian's face was minimally altered by magic, although he knew he could most likely form the illusion of normalcy. Who he was now couldn't - no, shouldn't - be hidden. Especially not from those he was looking to find here.

Shrugging off his introspection for the time being, Erylian took a small look around his surroundings. He had nestled himself in one of the sparse few trees lining the area for the night after losing his nerve the day before - the same tree he'd inhabited for a while now, just within viewing distance of the city, but far enough away to be inconspicuous from any onlookers that might wander. To his right was the magnificent lake, tainted as the lands were just on its opposite shore. Just ahead of him was the ruined outskirts of his home, long since destroyed by the Scourge. To his left was the Lordamere internment camp, and behind him, the majestic peaks of the Alterac mountains.

Sidling down from his perch in the tree, Erylian briefly looked at the shield that had protected Dalaran for the longest time. The barrier rippled gently with a hint of energy, sparkling of purple arcana. He sighed heavily, his thoughts weighing down on him with every beat of his decayed heart. With one last breath, he began finally making his way to meeting his destiny.

The sun rose above the horizon quickly after he first took note of it, the small labor of his strides taking much of his attention. By the time he had reached the shield, true morning had dawned on the area, which was all well to Erylian - he would rather not wake anyone once he got there. Admiring the work of the mages of Dalaran - something he hadn't been able to do in quite a long time - he walked through the shimmering purple wall and beheld his home. The cracked streets were lined by equally as damaged buildings, giving the entire scene a downtrodden feel. Marching through the lump in his chest, Erylian traveled the roads as if he'd never left them, knowing the exact route he would take.

Finally, he stood in front of the house he had been fearing to come near for the past decade. It was a run-down, uneven house that had two stories and a small porch that was threatening to fall off the front of it. Paint was chipping off the sides and front, and the windows were dirty beyond dirty. Even though all of this told him that there was no one there, he knew beyond a doubt that it wasn't true. It just couldn't be.

Taking a deep breath, Erylian stepped forward another few paces and took a firm hold on the doorknob. '_Now or never.'_

* * *

Krionoso was just barely waking as the sun shined through the dusty window of his room. It illuminated the space quite well, as if a hundred candles had come to life within the confines of the quarters. Long shadows graced the wooden floor as the light refracted off the bed's frame and the mattress it held. Morning was always so grand in this place, even though the city had looked more like ancient ruins rather than a functioning society, which wasn't far from reality, Krionoso thought bitterly. Maybe not ancient, but ruins nonetheless.

Stretching his limbs fully, he felt relief flow through him, as well as an acute sense of being awake. Today was a big day, far bigger than he had truly known.

Sitting up and positioning himself at the edge of the mattress, Krionoso stretched outward again, and heard as joints cracked into place with a small _pop_. He slowly rubbed his eyes to complete his little morning ritual and stood, making sure to don his robe before exiting the room. Hopping quickly downstairs with a slight air of excitement, he turned the corner and saw Sira, as usual, sitting at the dining room table, and behind her a kettle-full of steeping tea.

"Morning," she chirped, quite a bit happier than she had before. Perhaps this was a side effect from tearing her own conscience away from that of the demon possessing her.

Krionoso returned the greeting and sat at the table, immediately being served with a small porcelain cup full of the inky liquid. Muttering a quick 'thanks' to his... his mother... he took a few small sips of the tea before setting the cup down. Before their banter had a chance to commence, they were interrupted by a stirring off to the cot to his side - the very cot Simonee had been moved to after Sira's ritual the afternoon prior, while the mage and his allies tried articulating the mysteries of the tiny pendant in the shape of a gauntleted hand grasping a lit torch. Krionoso's group hadn't gleaned any clues from the story, but that hadn't balked them completely; Krionoso wasn't satisfied with nothing. He and the group traveled the length and width of Dalaran, trying in vain to divine any true clues from the landscape.

Meanwhile, Sira worked her healing on Simonee, trying her damnedest to pull him from his dream state, and while she was sure she had made progress on his internal wounds, she wasn't able to wake him from the slumber he was locked in. She had resigned herself to the fact that Simonee's own strength would have to do that, and no amount of outside intervention could speed the process up.

But, this was promising - Simonee stirred with more and more vigor with each passing second, and it wasn't the listless throes of agony. No, this was different, more controlled. This was him trying to break through the slumber, and to a point, succeeding. Krionoso stood to help him, but was held back by the gentlest grasping at his wrist and a look of sympathy on Sira's wrinkled face. Sitting back in the hardened wood of the chair, the mage watched his companion, wanting beyond want to help him, but being unable to. He understood completely why. Sira had explained it all after her session with Simonee, but even still, there was a sense of helplessness.

Just as soon as it started, the controlled spasms ended and Simonee lied still. Krionoso breathed a sigh of frustration for a moment and looked back down into his now half-full cup of tea. Another blurred motion from his right side, and the most miraculous sight greeted Krionoso's eyes.

Simonee was sitting straight up on the cot, stretching his arms much like he had, not twenty minutes ago.

"What a terrible nap that was. I assume the threat's been dealt with?" he asked, eyes still closed partially. Krionoso allowed himself a slight chuckle at his friend's wry humor and replied in the affirmative. "Good," came the response.

Turning his attention towards Sira, Simonee's clear blue eyes seemed weary but alert for any dangers that might lurk. "Good morning, ma'am, it's good to see you again."

"Likewise, my good mage. Tea?" she asked, proffering the kettle.

"Absolutely, if you would. I'm parched, famished, and otherwise thirsting."

"Understandable, considering the circumstances."

After pouring another small cup full of tea, she handed it to Simonee, who graciously accepted it and immediately took a long gulp. Sighing contentedly after draining the cup, he thanked Sira and set the empty porcelain vessel on the table. Krionoso had watched all this intently, still not sure if Simonee was truly back, or if this was a small reprieve from his slumber. While he made heads or tails of it, though, he extended every courtesy to his friend. Soon enough, all of the others had made their way down, and jubilantly greeted their friend back from the dead in their own ways. Dagerly had simply nodded and shook his hand, the bandage around his head finally coming loose from itself. Aeriah nearly fell down the flight of stairs at first glimpse of the mage. Aubs had squealed and ran to hug him tightly - so tightly that Simonee thought that she might never let go. After they had all reunited with each other, the question on everyone's tongue had spilled out through Krionoso's; "What the hell happened?"

Before Simonee could start to reply, the door opened, blinding everyone inside for a few moments, before their eyes adjusted to the brightness. Standing in the doorway was someone Simonee thought he wouldn't see again, someone he shouldn't have seen. The creature standing in the door was the one mage he had looked up to so long ago, prior to actually meeting him. In the doorway was Erylian.

"You!" he shouted, readying a spell. Loosing it in the vague direction of the door, Erylian jumped backward, avoiding getting blasted by the gout of fire by a narrow margin. Quickly placing a ward around himself, Erylian quickly worked at a spell while Simonee rushed outside to meet him.

Before Simonee's friends could join the fray, Erylian had the good sense to place a barrier of ice around the two of them. Walls ten feet high surrounded them, enclosing them in an area just large enough to duel without interference. But, dueling wasn't what Erylian had in mind. Rather, he would try and reason with Simonee, although he already knew the success he had with that line of action before.

"Will you stop? It's obvious neither of us will make any headway by fighting each other, and only negative things will come to us if we continue," he spoke, calmly and precisely. Simonee's eyes spoke of hatred untold, his fists clenched around fiery spells of varying magnitude.

"Why should I stop, _murderer_?" Simonee asked, rage consuming his vision.

Erylian sighed, the memory of his first meeting with Simonee and his first party of travelers flashing briefly across his vision. "My actions were regrettable, but at the time, necessary. I dearly wish I didn't have to take the paladin's life, but I acted in self-defense, as I'm sure you would have."

One of the spells Simonee held in check became airborne, and Erylian dove out of the way, rolling back to his feet. "Surely a mage as _"great"_ as you would have been able to find a nonlethal way to preserve yourself at the hands of a simple paladin," he spat, loosing the other spell.

Again, Erylian moved out of the way, only to be cut off by another fireball. The flames wiped the ward out of existence and left him unharmed. Sighing heavily, he replied, "Yes, perhaps I could have - no, should have, but the past is the past and nothing can change what I did. I can only offer my condolences and hope you accept them."

"And why should I accept them?" Simonee asked, gritting his teeth. "What's to say you won't just turn around and attack me with my guard down?"

"Are you really that foolish? Please, trust that I won't betray you - I wouldn't gain anything by doing such a thing." Erylian had hoped he had appealed to Simonee's senses. He didn't want to have to fight, all he really wanted to do was see Sira and his children in peace. It had been so long since he saw her face, and that was all that had driven him for the past who-knows-how-long.

Just when it seemed Simonee had heard his reasoning and found it agreeable, more fireballs streaked towards Erylian, forcing him to defend himself again. The fire collided with the wall of ice, breaking a few small shards from the frozen structure. With no other option available to him, Erylian saw that he was forced to subdue the other mage. With fire in one hand and frost in the other, he lobbed a few volleys at Simonee, not quite intending to hit him.

Simonee threw wards on himself quickly, and darted out of the way of the spells being sent his way. He was confused at Erylian's lack of accuracy, but didn't let it distract him from the battle at hand. If he did, it might turn out badly in the end. Instead, he rolled with the proverbial punches and avoided each spell, while those he couldn't were countered by the wards in place. Another thing he hadn't been expecting was the tomb of ice Erylian had constructed around him.

"That's enough," his counterpart sighed, taking down the exterior wall of ice. Everyone outside had taken up faces of shock as they saw what had transpired between the two mages. "Hello, everyone. Let me explain. Please, let's go back inside, while his temper thaws."

* * *

Krionoso could only stare in wonder at the man... undead... that had just revealed himself as Erylian. Here was his father, sitting in front of him across the dining room table. He had so many questions for him, but didn't know where to start. But, while indecision ate at him, his sister had no such problem.

"Where have you been all this time since Hyjal?" she asked, almost as awestruck as Krionoso.

Having expected the questions, Erylian was prepared to deliver the answer. "I'm not exactly sure what happened just after the battle; I fear I succumbed to the Scourge's call soon after I fell, and had been ambling around until somehow finding myself conscious and waking up in a tomb somewhere near Brill." Pausing for a brief second to order his thoughts, he took a breath and continued. "From there, I was almost everywhere. I returned to Hyjal to try and find out what had happened, ended up in the stockades of Stormwind somehow, and then made my way around here."

Krionoso paused after hearing Erylian's vague descriptions. "What about Simonee? He seemed to have known you."

Looking his son directly in his eyes, the ex-archmage stated clearly, "He and I had a small run-in on my way to try and remember my past at Hyjal. One of his old friends had gotten a bit too aggressive for my tastes and... certain measures had to be taken to ensure my survival. It was a regretful situation, but in my eyes, necessary. Before that, however, I found him wandering outside this very city, studying the ways of the mages who took up residence here. After having seen my prowess with his own eyes through a small confrontation of misunderstanding, he expressed a wish to learn. I had agreed, but things from there turned sour."

The weight of Erylian's gaze unnerved Krionoso just enough for the young mage to avert his eyes to the ever present porcelain cup sitting on a matching cream-colored saucer in front of him.

"A paladin who had gone by a moniker of "Lightsworn", saw through the disguise I used and captured me and imprisoned Simonee. From there, he was insistent on pitting himself against me. One thing led to another, and he stubbornly refused to yield. I had no other choice available to me, I had to preserve myself. I'm sure you understand."

From behind, a slow clapping became apparent. Erylian turned and saw Simonee standing in the doorway, still fuming from their confrontation. "What a tale," he spat. "Embellished, I'm sure."

"Why can you not just accept that I meant no harm? I had a mission and I was not about to let anything stop me. I tried non-lethal approaches to resolving that unfortunate conflict, and when that didn't work, I protected myself through the means necessary. I deeply regret taking Lightsworn's life, I really do."

Simonee sighed. "Regardless, I now realize that however much I wish to avenge his death, I must accept defeat at your hands, even if only for this moment. It is indeed a pointless conflict between us, as well as squandered talents that could and likely should be focused elsewhere, until all such threats have been dealt with."

Relief washed over Erylian as he heard Simonee surrender.

"Thank you. I appreciate this greatly."

Simonee nodded slightly, and moved to the table where everyone had been congregated, and took a seat. Memory shot through his mind, and he had an idea.

"Krionoso, do you happen to have that pendant?" he asked. "Perhaps Erylian here knows its origins and where its use lies."

"Pendant...?" Erylian asked, perplexed.

Reaching just under the collar of his robes, Krionoso pulled the necklace from around his neck and handed it to his father. Erylian ran his bony fingers over the small gauntlet holding the torch. A smile touched his haggard face, something that hadn't been there in a long time.

"We've been searching for the answer to a riddle Sira presented us regarding that pendant for the longest time," Aeriah said, watching as the mage turned the silver over in his hand.

"Perhaps you haven't been searching the right places. Follow me."

Erylian rose from the wooden chair and motioned for the rest to join him. They all walked for a few moments before coming to the headless statue they had noticed on the way into the city.

Simonee muttered the words inscribed upon the stone that he had read on his first visit beyond the shield shimmering purple around the city.

"Dedicated to the mages of Dalaran; This is for those that stand in the doorway of darkness, making known the Light."

Realization played across his features when he connected the dots.

Taking the pendant and necklace in hand again, Erylian searched the statue for something. "This old thing was imbued with a powerful magic should anything ever happen to the city. I was entrusted with the key, and knowing myself well, I instead passed it off to Sira as a gift. I knew she would keep it well safe, and hidden from danger," he explained. "Aha!"

Finding what he was looking for in the almost-ancient stone, Erylian placed the silver pendant in a small carved-out emplacement and backed away from the statue. Muttering a few words under his breath, many of which Simonee couldn't quite hear, but what he did catch was quite interesting to him.

Before he could satiate his curiosity, he was assailed by a blindingly white light, bursting forth from the statue's very presence. When the light died down, and all was quiet again, what Simonee found had quite literally blown his mind.

* * *

A/N: Another chapter down, months behind schedule. Even with these long delays, though, I swear I will see this story to the end. Anyway, that's chapter twenty, and it's only got a few left in it before the finish. As always, thank you all for the patience, whoever still reads this tripe. It definitely helps me get through my writer's blocks, however many there have been. I'm hoping not to have the next chapter published in another five or six months, if I can help it at all. In fact, if I keep myself applied, I can probably have it done within the month of March. Watch this space, as always. With that, I leave you all to begin work on the next chapter;

Be Happy - Python.


	22. Chapter 21: Northward

**Trial by Fire**

**Chapter 21: Northward**

Erylian had been expecting what came next; at least, more so than Simonee had. A blinding light burst from the statue, starting from where the pendant had been placed, and enveloping the rest of the stone. A ripple of some sort of energy blasted through the air at the same time, palpable, but not visible.

As the ripple passed by the buildings of Dalaran, the structures seemed to rebuild themselves out of the rubble back to their original splendor, and the cobblestone streets, broken and worn down as they were, were replaced by bright purplish stones, lined perfectly beside each other. Everything was changing, including the statue itself. Cracks that had taken root in the hard stone smoothed out and became whole again, and even the missing head was reconstructed to full effect. More impressive still, the tall spire that represented the Violet Citadel became whole again, towering high above the city - it even competed against the tallest neighboring peaks of the Alterac Mountains.

Not only were the houses and shops restored to near-perfection, but once the energy had run its course, people had begun peeking out of open windows and doors, obviously confused at the spectacle that had just occurred.

Simonee witnessed all of this and gasped once it had all resolved. He was more than bewildered at this turn of events, but at the same time, simply ecstatic. The rest of the group looked much the same; each wore a countenance of awe and wonder, many of them with their mouths agape in a state of being awestruck. The only one whose curiosity burned brighter than such a state was Krionoso.

"What happened?" he asked, extending his arms to the aftermath of the burst of energy. Erylian turned to look at him, smiling wide with satisfaction.

Before he had a chance to reply, however, he was cut off by a messenger gesturing eagerly at him while running to greet them. The messenger was rather young, with dark brown hair that flowed behind him, while bright emerald eyes surveyed the information ahead of him. His clothing was simple; a tan tunic and deep red linen pants that hung loosely from his frame. It hadn't taken him long to travel the length of the street - no mean task - and once he had gotten to the group, still congregated near the stone statue, saluted Erylian in respect.

"Welcome magister," he began, no trace of tiredness hanging in his voice. "Archmage Rhonin requests your presence."

Erylian simply nodded at the youngster before turning back to Krionoso. "Perhaps a story for another time. For now, come. There is much to do, and many people we must meet with."

With that, Erylian walked briskly behind the messenger, not quite waiting to see whether or not anyone had actually bothered themselves to follow him. Curiosity once more took hold of Krionoso and indeed followed in his father's wake. Sira, who had come along and watched everything with a sort of detached interest, had also followed; behind her, Simonee and the rest of his party of travelers.

They walked along the street, earning stares from disembodied heads in the windows of the houses they passed along their way. The direction they took lead them exactly toward the Violet Citadel, and every step they took caused the tower to seem even taller and taller than it had already seemed from afar. A large flight of stairs preceded the entrance proper to the Citadel, leading to a rather large landing (small by comparison to the rest of it) that wrapped around it completely. The stairs seemed a little too even to be crafted by even the most skilled craftsman. Looking up toward the sky, Simonee could just barely make out a trio of large, purple crystals, spaced by three dividers that seemed to have been made from the same material of the tower. These crystals floated, stationary, around the Citadel, and Simonee could only guess that these were more than just decoration - a defense of some sort, perhaps. The entire structure, from the staircase to the very tip, simply radiated magic.

The interior of the building was massively spacious. To the left and right of the room were a pair of bookshelves each, filled to the brim. Behind these were doors, presumably leading further into the Citadel. In the center of the room were two people, standing atop a mosaic inlaid into the surface of the floor, which itself was crafted of a deep purple set of tiles. Behind the two occupants of the room was another set of stairs, which led to another wraparound landing which contained another set of bookshelves, as well as a pair of portals on either side of those that lead to untold destinations.

His eyes wandering back to the center of the room, Simonee again took note of the two people. one was a male, and the other female; the first was a human, and the second, not. Elongated ears told the experienced eye that it wasn't a human, but the other features it held threw him for a loop. Bright, glowing blue eyes, pale radiant skin. Within just a moment, he understood. High elf.

He supposed that the presence of one of Azeroth's oldest races at the crux of the living races' magical power and research wasn't all that surprising. After all, their poor 'cousins', if they could even still be called that, had been sadly addicted to the arcane energies ever since the Sunwell incident.

The male, Simonee suspected, was Rhonin. He was a tall man, looked to be middle-aged, and had blazing red hair, cut to medium length. From stories he had heard since he was young, Rhonin was one of the most powerful mages in their time. His stature said as such, as well.

"Welcome back, Magister," Rhonin spoke, nodding in Erylian's general direction. He had tactfully neglected to bring up the fact that the last time he had spoken with the man, he had quite a bit of his flesh still intact.

Simonee was simply stricken by the Archmage's voice - something about it projected power.

"Archmage Rhonin," Erylian said, bowing his head slightly. "It has been quite a long time."

"Indeed it has. I'm very glad to see you found your way back, my friend. We have caught wind of troubles brewing in Northrend."

"Northrend, sir?" Erylian asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes. The Lich King has finally decided to stop holding off and is amassing his forces on the glacier of Icecrown. Both Horde and Alliance have already mobilized ships sailing north on freezing seas and frigid air. And now, we must as well."

Erylian nodded. "I see. Before I forget myself, allow me to introduce my companions. I'm sure you remember my wife, Sira." Rhonin replied in the positive, smiling politely as Erylian waved a hand in her direction. "Here is my son, Krionoso, and daughter, Aubrey," he stated, gesturing to them accordingly. "This is Simonee, a mage of considerable power, but perhaps a little brash for his own good. Nothing a little training won't fix."

Simonee took the smack to his pride silently, knowing perfectly well that it was true, however much he would have liked to deny the fact.

"Welcome to Dalaran, Simonee. While we have not the time to properly train and guide you with this new threat looming over our heads, I'm sure being in contact with some of the mages here will be of some good to you. Of course, as I understand it, this isn't the first time you've been here, is it?" Rhonin asked, cocking his head slightly to the side.

Sensing that the question wasn't fully rhetorical, Simonee stepped forward a pace to respond. "No, Archmage. I was here briefly before the Scourge invaded, and... destroyed... Dalaran, though I suppose the latter fact is less true than I had originally been led to believe."

Rhonin smiled genuinely. "No, perhaps not. However, explanations later. Who are the rest of your friends here?"

Simonee took it upon himself to introduce the shaman Garret, the rogue Dagerly, and the druid, Aeriah.

"It is a pleasure to meet all of you. Allow me, then, to introduce myself. I am Rhonin, as you've probably guessed through the discussion so far. I am the leader of the faction known as the Kirin Tor, as well as the Council of Six, the ruling body of Dalaran. Next to me here is Vareesa Windrunner. She is the acting leader of the Silver Covenant. Normally, we would be graced by the presence of the leader of the Sunreavers as well, Aethas Sunreaver, but he is away on urgent business elsewhere."

Simonee risked another look at the high elf standing beside Rhonin, and her presence made all that much more sense. He also realized that it wasn't just any high elf. It was one of Sylvanas' siblings.

"Now that the pleasantries are all taken care of, we have very important business to attend to. As has already been stated, we must get the mages of Dalaran from here to the frozen northlands. There is no easy way to perform such a task, and so the Council has decided that it would be best to move the entirety of Dalaran to a safe point somewhere that overlooks Icecrown; that way we can keep an eye on Arthas' movements as well as be a staging area for the ground forces making their way north."

Simonee was both surprised and perplexed. Moving people from one place to another was rather simple enough, but moving an entire landmass was something completely different.

"Archmage, if you don't mind my asking, _how_ exactly are we meant to do that?" he questioned.

"Well," Rhonin began, moving toward one of the bookshelves to his left and selecting a tome from the many, "I agree, it presents us with a very interesting and unusual problem. There is no way that any amount of mages, no matter how powerful they may be, would be able to lift Dalaran off the ground, much less teleport it hundreds of leagues from Hillsbrad here to Northrend." He paused momentarily.

Replacing the book on the shelf, he looked directly at Simonee. "However," he began, scratching at his brilliant red hair, "the amount of energy that has been stored and is continuing to converge upon this very ley line is just enough to accomplish the task, we believe. The problem then becomes that there's nowhere safe to land an entire city. Instead, we'll have to somehow find a point of power to anchor a spell of levitation great enough to prevent Dalaran from falling."

The enormous complexities of such a spell overwhelmed Simonee, who had prided himself on his knowledge of vast arrays of spells.

"And, if that wasn't enough of a headache, we'll have to protect that point of power in some way. Preferably not at the expense of some of our mages, but that may prove to be inevitable." Rhonin paused yet again, shortly, and sighed. "We'll need every available mind in our grasp, and this includes you, young mage, as well as your friends. Will you help us accomplish this?"

Before Simonee was able to say a word, however, Rhonin read the troubled expression on his face as the younger of the two looked toward the ground. "I understand that you have standing orders to return to king Wrynn with all due haste, but I believe he'll be quite understanding, if not happy, to postpone that meeting until Dalaran is safely within the borders of Northrend."

Simonee took his turn to sigh, briefly rubbing at his temples. Everyone in the room turned to look squarely at him, waiting to hear his decision.

Bringing his eyes from the floor to make contact with Rhonin's, he finally replied, "Yes, Archmage. My group and I will gladly assist."

"Of course, as will I," assured Erylian.

"Of course," Rhonin echoed, once again smiling. "Get yourselves rested. We'll need all of you at your best before we begin. Erylian, come with me, I need you to help me begin the preparations."

Nodding, Erylian followed behind Rhonin, pausing at the top of the steps to look down at the rest of the party. He gave a brief nod and a smile to Simonee, who returned the reassuring gesture. Simonee then watched as the elder mage disappeared through the portal on the right of the landing.

"You heard the Archmage. Get some rest," Sira said gently, from the back of the group. "My house is still open to you, or I could show you the inn."

"Thank you for your quite generous hospitality, ma'am. It would be a pleasure to remain at your abode for at least a small while," Simonee said, turning to the gray-haired woman.

"Naturally," she replied with a grin. As they all set off for her small home on the outskirts of town, she couldn't help but comment, "You young people, always getting yourself into trouble. It's too much excitement for an old lady."

They shared a laugh over the matter and continued on their way, the sun already beginning to set on the horizon.

* * *

Simonee hadn't been able to get an ounce of sleep that night. Questions lingered in his mind about... well, everything. The first massive thing that buzzed in his thoughts, not unlike a fly, was Dalaran, and just exactly how Rhonin planned to move it. It was a monumental task, to be sure. Secondly, but just as important to him, what was his part in this supposed to be? Surely there were many minds greater than his situated all around Dalaran that were all more than capable of filling his place in the scheme; why hadn't Rhonin roped them into doing this? Just by the tone of the Archmage's voice, Simonee knew he had something much more in store for him than he had originally let on.

Simonee sighed heavily, once again reflecting on the long journey that he had already been a part of. All of the details of everything had become muddled and mixed together in his mind. How long ago had he set out from Goldshire? Had it even been a year yet? Shaking his head, Simonee cleared his mind of those thoughts; they were only going to amplify his exhaustion. One question had, however, stuck around about the topic: how long would it be before he could put this whole adventure business behind him? He decided quickly that it wouldn't quite be soon enough.

Turning over in the mattress, he looked out the now-clear glass of the window. Stars dominated the midnight blue sky, and the moon shined strongly down on the lapping waters of the Lordamere Lake. The glow of artificial light emanated from the city, almost like an aura of holy energy, cutting into the dark night with the supreme contrast of black against white.

The scene was absolutely peaceful, but Simonee knew, in only a few hours, all that would change. Determined to get at least a small amount of sleep before the simply massive day ahead of him, Simonee closed his eyes and conjured visions of the harsh lands of Northrend.

Morning came entirely too quickly for Simonee's tastes. The sun's angle against the horizon provided it a way to shine straight through his window. This almost immediately woke him from his light slumber, something he deeply resented. Although he was _technically _awake, he felt almost dead - less so than a couple of days prior perhaps, by even so, the feeling stood. Extreme grogginess clouded every thought and action, but he fought through it and stretched his arms wide.

With a quick yawn, Simonee finally broke his veritable inertia and rose from his bed. Downstairs, the tea was flowing as freely as ever from Sira's boiling kettle, and everyone had already taken their seats around her dining room table - maybe the last time they'd be able to congregate as such, what with everything they now had to accomplish. Despite this fact, everyone seemed jovial and relatively content.

"Good morning, Simonee," Sira said. "You personally have been called to join Erylian and Archmage Rhonin in the Violet Citadel. It sounded rather important, so I wouldn't tarry here if I were you."

Sighing inwardly, Simonee replied, "I suppose I shouldn't keep them waiting, then."

Sira offered him her condolences, and Simonee nodded in thanks, making for the door.

Outside her home was something he hadn't thought he'd see in a very long time. Dalaran was more lively than Simonee had ever seen it. The streets were actually bustling with people, and vendors continually shouted above each other, in a never-ending contest of voices and merchandise, as they all advertised their wares to passersby.

Of course, as of this very moment, Simonee wasn't quite looking to shop for anything, but he was definitely interested in what vendors in Dalaran would sell. Obviously there were many that were hawking magical reagents and the like, but what else lie in store? He filed the question away as one that deserved answering.

Moving quickly through the crowds of people, Simonee made his way toward the tall tower that was the Violet Citadel. It really was majestic to look at, he conceded to himself. Within moments, he was upon the great staircase that served as the entrance of the building. Entering the Citadel, he was immediately set upon by the two older mages.

"Ah, I'm glad you came in a timely fashion, my friend," Rhonin stated. "We have, as I'm sure you no doubt realize, much to do in a very limited amount of time. Come, come."

Motioning for Simonee to follow behind, Rhonin made for the portal he had disappeared through the day before, while Simonee wondered how many times he'd be reminded they didn't have a great amount of time to do a great amount of things. Beyond the portal, he wondered whether they had actually gone anywhere; the room was similar to the one they had just been in, albeit a bit smaller in circumference. _'Higher up,'_ Simonee quickly realized.

In the center of the new room was a large table, littered by a multitude of parchments full of particularly pertinent information, all shuffled into a disorganized mess. On the perimeter of the room were more bookshelves, full as the ones downstairs. Directly ahead of where the mages rematerialized was an opening to what Simonee believed to be a balcony, rimmed by a railing. The railing was crafted of a very strange metal, and seemed to be extremely thin for what purpose it served. A large filigree formed the majority of it, all except the top, which was (not much) thicker and rounder than what it rested on.

Simonee hadn't noticed them on his first look around the room, but circling the table were a panoply of chairs. He took notice of them shortly after Rhonin had motioned to one of them.

"Please, sit. Make yourself comfortable, there are quite a few topics we must expand upon before starting our... little venture," he said, taking a seat on the opposite side of the table. Both Erylian and Simonee complied and Rhonin wasted no time delving into the thick of the conversation. "Firstly, we believe we've found the perfect place to bring Dalaran." He pulled from the pile of parchments on the table a map of Northrend, divided into sections by lines that represented borders. They were all labeled, and Rhonin pointed to one named Crystalsong Forest. It was situated in what seemed to be the exact center of the continent.

"Right in the middle. There's quite a bit of stored energy within the area, more than enough to carry the weight of the city for a very long time. As you can see," he moved his finger a few inches to the left and up, "we'll have one of the clearest views of Icecrown Citadel that we can manage without putting ourselves in any considerable amount of danger."

He shuffled the map away for later use, and brought more papers out of the makeshift pile. "Secondly, we must set the borders of the transportation spell. It will have to be limited enough that we can make use of some, but not _all_ of the power in this particular ley line."

"Would the circumference of the old shield be suitable?" Simonee offered.

Rhonin tapped his chin with a finger for a few moments, in thought. "Now that I think about it, that would be perfectly logical. When we had erected the shield, the very same concerns were in mind, though we were terribly mistaken on the exact amount of energy passing through here. We could have done so much more... perhaps a musing for later times."

Conjuring a quill from what seemed like nowhere, Rhonin wrote measurements on one of the parchments that he pulled from the stack, and replaced it in the mess. "Now. It's likely prudent to tell you exactly how everything you see here came to be. You know quite well what happened when the Scourge attacked the city. Quite a lot was lost in that, but we came to rebuild after the shield came up. Soon enough, we were looking for alternative ways to preserve ourselves, and there was only one likely option that presented itself," he said, looking back up from the papers to Simonee. "At the time, we believed them to be a hostile presence, but we saw no other way. We came in contact with the Bronze Dragonflight, and they proved to be anything but hostile to us."

Standing and turning to look out the open doorway, Rhonin continued. "They told us of a conflict that would soon be upon us - and if we tried to opt out of it, the time line would be irreparably altered - and this conflict not only affected us, but the entirety of the dragons. Perhaps this is why they were so eager to help us, who knows. Regardless, they agreed to our requests and they placed the entire city under their protection from the ravages of time. They split the time line _just_ so that one version of Dalaran aged normally, while the other decayed at a much slower rate."

Turning back into the room, Rhonin looked slightly distracted, likely searching his memory for the events he was retelling. "They did this through a conduit. A lock and key, if you will," he said, still staring at the wall behind Simonee. "I'm sure you know what I'm talking about."

"The statue in the square," the younger mage concluded. "And the pendant that went with it."

"Precisely. The inscription may have been from Miss Proudmoore, but by no means was it a donation from her. No, the statue was created by the Dragonflight, and made to look as though it was provided from mundane means. For obvious reasons, really. Anyway, that's where you picked up the slack. We gave Erylian the key to the lock, who, in turn, gave it to his wife before heading off to Hyjal. She kept it, as a self-made outcast from the society of Dalaran, until you and yours showed up. From there, you're here. That is also the reason why we were so quickly able to tell about the Lich King. Another prophesy from the Dragonflight; the time line would be reconvened at a time when Northrend's denizens would become more active, which signals the start of previously mentioned conflict. And so we come full circle."

Recollecting himself, Rhonin looked again at Simonee. "Now you know exactly what happened to us living here in Dalaran. Not particularly the most heroic tale I could have spun, but it serves as history."

Simonee nodded quickly, grateful for the information. He'd have to relay it back to Krionoso and the rest before long. "So, what next?" he asked, still a small bit curious about the plan.

"Well," Rhonin sighed heavily, "I suppose I'll need runners to begin drawing up the runes necessary to begin the spell, and from there, I'll need the mages of the city mustered. I'm thinking, perhaps, that we should have planned for this day more actively." He added the last part of the sentence rather sheepishly, which amused Simonee to no end.

"No one's perfect, Archmage," Erylian said. It almost shocked Simonee that he was still there; he had been silent since the beginning of their meeting.

"I suppose you're right, Grand Magister," Rhonin replied mirthfully. "I'll have all the arrangements made. You'll be sent for when the time comes, which shouldn't be too long after we begin all of the processes. For now, though, you're both free to explore or do as you will."

"Thank you, Archmage," Simonee said, bowing his head.

"You're quite welcome, my friend."

At that, Erylian ushered Simonee through the portal and they found themselves at the empty bottom of the Citadel.

"So it was true then?" Simonee asked as they walked down the staircase inside the tower.

"To the letter," Erylian replied, guessing correctly that his counterpart was meaning the history lesson Rhonin had just given him.

"I see. There's something I'd like to know about you, though," Simonee began, after crossing the threshold from inside to the outside, "What were you up to when we first crossed paths out here?"

Erylian sighed. So many unpleasant memories had played out since their first confrontation, not many worth mentioning. "Well, I was actually on a mission from Sylvanas Windrunner herself. When I woke in that tomb outside of Brill... I, well... I don't know what happened. I would have these flashbacks play in my mind, and I would black out momentarily. Once I snapped to again, some random piece of my flesh would mystically reappear. I was checked out by some of the finest apothecaries Undercity had to offer, and they didn't have an answer to it."

They had reached the end of the current road, and as such, Erylian turned to the direction of Sira's house. "I was told to report to Sylvanas, and she sent me off to find out exactly how I was able to regenerate myself. If I had my own conjectures, I would say that the arcane energies I used to wield - which I still do, to a lesser extent today - had played hell with the process the Scourge uses to reanimate a corpse, and as such, every time a particular action happens, the energy restores some of my former self," he shrugged. "Just a thought."

"You've had quite a lot of time to form these conjectures, haven't you?" Simonee asked, somewhat amused by Erylian's explanation.

Erylian chuckled quietly, and nodded. "Indeed."

"Well, it seems a likely cause, if it's all the same."

At that point, the two had already finished traversing the path, and had found themselves practically on the old priestess' doorstep. Simonee reflected on all he had learned through the conversations he held with his contemporaries. It was a sizable amount of information, and somehow he'd have to convey it all to his friends, who were all no doubt eagerly awaiting anything that he could give them. With a quick nod to Erylian, he opened the door, and both entered the house with an interested outlook on their immediate future. It would be a long time before any of them were comfortable again.

* * *

A/N: I was hoping that this chapter would be a little longer than it turned out, but impatience (both on my own end, as well as another's) and a small lack of words to continue with, have forced my hand. With that said, however, this is the final chapter of Trial by Fire. I know, I said "a few more," but this seems like a perfect place to end this particular chapter of the series, especially considering the news that I'm now unveiling to the Fanfiction-dot-net community. Those that still read my dribble, that is.

Regardless, I've stated on other conduits of news that I frequent, that I am going to extend the series past this story. For the whole story on why this is, I urge you to check out either my deviantART profile, or that of this very site (the profile update I'm posting for this chapter will be copied directly from the dA page, so either will provide the information you seek), but the short story on it is the fact that I'm not quite done with these guys yet, and instead of starting a whole new series about their continued adventures, I'd much rather continue on this one. Anyway, there's an epilogue coming soon, as well as a final final author's note. Expect them within the next few days.

Also, while I'm on the topic, Ikeris - or Scion13, if you prefer - will be joining me on this epic new adventure, providing his own expertise and insight into the tales to come. But, more on that later. For now;

Be Happy - Python.


	23. Final Author's Note

**Trial by Fire**

**Final Author's Note**

Okay, guys. I'm foregoing the epilogue this one time because what I wrote is crap compared to the last few chapters. It was either this or begin our next adventure without a prologue. Yes, yes, I'll be explaining the process of how Dalaran moves, or rather, the set up of it, as a prologue. I just need a little more time to figure out how to do it.

Speaking of, I do have a name for this new tale, much thanks to my fellow author and long-time friend, Ikeris. I'd been struggling with this one, as I hadn't had much thought on it prior to these past few weeks of bustling activity. But, regardless, I have one now. Be on the lookout for the two-part story, _On Rising and Falling _soon. It's still in planning phases, and I'm not going to rush and write the beginning like I did for this story; I'm legitimately taking my time and making sure that this is going to be as epic and amazing as I have imagined. So, bear with me on that.

As I stated in the author's note for last chapter, Ikeris will be co-writing this with me, and not just one chapter. We will be closely working together for maximum awesome. After all, I've kinda assimilated his characters into my story. Yes, both Erylian and Krionoso are his characters, loaned to me for the duration of this series (hence the familial tie they have). And, speaking of, the plot of his own story, _Life of Ruins_, will be acting as a sideplot in _Rising and Falling_. As for how long this will be spaced out, don't worry, we'll both be on each other's cases, so no twelve month hiatuses. As of this moment, he's been an invaluable asset to the planning of _Rising and Falling_ and I doubt the story would be half as interesting to plot without his help.

I will not be including a synopsis of the plot in the new story, so if you go and refer friends to read this, be sure that either they read through the entire series, or make note of the synopsis in _Trial_. For all intents and purposes, this is a new beginning, and I'm treating it as such. On that note, I bid farewell to the rambling nonsense that I called a plot for the previous three 'books', in favor of a more cohesive goal, and given the circumstances, I believe that goal is well enough known.

In a completely unrelated topic, I'll be scanning and posting a page of my handwritten work to the deviantART account, just as a little extra to let you see a little more of my writing process - if you're into that kind of stuff. I'll be providing a link to it in my FF-dot-net profile page once I get it all done. Then I suppose you'll see all the editing I do in transcription, and perhaps even after that.

Anyway, I seem to be rambling on. I'll see you all on the other side of this small break, so until then, thank you dearly for taking the time to read my work, and;

Be Happy - Python.


End file.

Warcraft, Adventure, Drama